Teen Wolf: Lacey
by alphalacey
Summary: This fic begins at the beginning of season 3A. Stiles meets Lacey, the new girl in Beacon Hills, and he can't help but feel a connection to her. Unfortunately, he isn't the only one vying for her affection. On top of that, her identity is surrounded by mystery and his closest friends fear there may be something sinister about her.
1. Chapter 1

Stiles walked through the grocery store's automatic double doors and made a beeline for the cereal aisle. Once he had arrived at his destination, he surveyed his options laboriously, as he did every time he had to make this life and death decision. He walked the length of the aisle, moving his eyes over the colorful boxes. As he turned on heel to walk back to the other end of the aisle, a flash of red hair caught his eye. Could it be Lydia? Stiles shamelessly lunged toward the end of the aisle, only to see a fleeting glimpse of a girl who was not Lydia. Crestfallen, he returned to his cereal boxes.

As he neared the end of the aisle again, still not having made a decision, he saw the girl he had thought was Lydia. She was looking at the sign above the cereal aisle, wondering if it had what she needed. He could see now that her hair was a darker sort of red and she had a freckled complexion. She wasn't Lydia, but she sure was cute. Stiles couldn't get away with openly staring for long because she soon shifted her eyes down the aisle. Stiles stood up straighter and pretended to be contemplating his cereal selection. However, she gazed right through him with a perplexed look on her face; then, realizing the aisle did not have what she needed, continued on her way.

Deflated, Stiles made one more pass of the cereal aisle, grabbed a box of Captain Crunch, and headed toward the milk. As he left the aisle, he nearly collided with the red-haired girl.

"Whoa, sorry!" Stiles spluttered.

She gave him a shy smile. "It's okay."

Embarrassed, Stiles nodded and laughed uncomfortably, then moved toward the dairy section. _Nice one,_ he thought to himself, running his hands exasperatedly through his hair.

He picked up a gallon of milk, and glanced back. The girl stood only a few feet from where they had had their run-in, still empty handed, hands on her hips, staring straight ahead.

Stiles jumped at the opportunity. "Hey, do you need help?"

The girl looked over at him. Now that he was in the spotlight, he grew nervous. "I mean, uh, it just seems like you're having trouble finding something, and I, you know, I could point you in the right direction, if you want…" He internally cringed.

To his surprise, she laughed. "Is it that obvious?"

Stiles relaxed, realizing she didn't think he was a total creep. "No, no, not at all. I just––"

"It's okay, you don't have to humor me. Can you please just tell me where they keep the eggs in this place?"

A look of understanding washed over Stiles' face. "Ah, the eggs," he said. "You know, that's kind of a local joke around here."

"Really?" she responded, taking a couple steps toward him and seeming genuinely interested.

"Yeah, they're basically hidden. C'mon, I'll show you."

Together they walked along the dairy section until they got to the end and, tucked away on the side of the dairy freezer were the eggs.

"Tada!" Stiles splayed his arms out dramatically.

"Thank god!" the girl replied. She grabbed a carton and examined its contents. Deciding they were adequate, she closed the lid, and looked at Stiles. "Is this some sort of newbie hazing or something?"

He laughed. "Well, not exactly. But it does make it pretty dang obvious that someone isn't from here."

Together, they started walking toward the check-out lines.

"I guess you caught me," she replied.

"So, you're an outsider, then?" Stiles questioned jokingly.

"Hah, yeah, I guess so."

"Where from?"

They had arrived at the check-out.

"You know, here and there," she responded elusively, throwing him a smile before walking over to a different line. "Thanks again for showing me the eggs!" she called over to him from her line.

"Yeah, no problem!" he called back. "No problem at all," he commented to himself, smiling like an idiot.

"Paper or plastic?" the cashier droned, calling him back to reality.

"Uh, paper," he replied.

He hastily finished paying and looked over to the other line, but she had already left. Stiles rushed toward the exit and burst through the double doors, looking like a spazz as his eyes darted around the parking lot. It was hard to tell in the growing darkness, but he knew she was gone. Stiles sighed and slumped toward where he had parked his jeep.

His spirits soared as he realized the girl was at the bike rack, putting the eggs into her bike basket. As she turned her bike away from the rack, she saw him.

"You again?" she asked teasingly.

"Hey, it's not my fault you parked your bike by my jeep," Stiles replied, sticking his hands up. He unlocked his car and threw his grocery bag in.

"Thanks again," she told him. "Really."

"You're welcome," he replied. "Next time try not to look too lost, okay?"

She laughed and climbed onto her bike. "I'll try."

Before she could ride away, he opened his big mouth. "Do you need a ride home?"

She stopped her bike and looked back at him. "I mean, I have my bike…"

"Right, sorry, stupid question." Stiles could feel himself dying on the inside.

"Thanks for the offer, though," she added. "And don't take it personally. I don't accept rides from strangers. It's a matter of principle."

"I'm Stiles."

"Lacey." She smiled. "You know this doesn't change anything, right?"

"Yeah, I know," he admitted. "Is me driving next to you on your way home against your principles? I mean, it is getting dark."

"I think my principles are okay with that," Lacey agreed, a smile hiding in the corner of her mouth.

"Okay, cool. 'Cause you never know with Beacon Hills." Stiles meant more by that than she would ever know.

"I don't know… seems like a pretty tame place to me," she told him.

Stiles laughed falsely and climbed into his jeep. He backed out of his spot and, soon, she was alongside him, riding her bike next to the passenger window. He rolled it down and they moved in silence for a moment.

"So, you said you're from 'here and there'," Stiles commented, breaking the silence. "What exactly does that mean?"

"Well, my parents died when I was seven," she told him. "So I've been bouncing around between foster families for some time. I can barely even remember all the places I've been."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Stiles genuinely meant it. "My mom died when I was about that age."

"You and your dad must be close, then?" she asked inquisitively.

"Yeah, yeah. I mean, it was rough when she first died, but we're tight now," Stiles replied. "He's actually the sheriff in Beacon Hills."

"Well, if I didn't feel safe before, now I definitely do," she joked. "Being escorted home by the sheriff's son."

Stiles laughed. "Is that a little bit of sarcasm, maybe?"

"Maybe." She grinned.

They had now exited the parking lot and were on the main road, but Stiles still kept the jeep at a steady crawl in order to stay next to her.

"Any siblings?" she continued.

"Nope," Stiles responded. "No biological siblings, anyway. My friend Scott and I have known each other since our sandbox days, though. He's basically my brother."

"That's so great." She sounded like she actually meant it. "I've had more foster siblings than I can count, but none I've ever clicked with like that."

"Yeah, I'm actually going with him to get his first tattoo after dinner," Stiles told her.

"That's so cool!" she replied, sounding thrilled. "What's he getting?"

"Just two bands around his arm, I think," he told her.

"So cool," she repeated. "How about you?"

Stiles laughed nervously. "Me? No––no way. I'm just hoping I can stay upright while he gets his."

"Not a fan of needles?" Lacey mused, smiling.

Stiles visibly shivered, looking nauseated. "Not in the slightest, actually," he admitted. "No needles, no blood…"

"Seems like you would be used to that kind of stuff by now," she commented.

"What would make you say that?" Stiles sputtered, almost defensively. _What did this girl know? Had he said something he shouldn't have?_

"Yeah, I mean, with your dad being the sheriff and all." As she said it, his heart immediately jumped out of his throat and back into his chest where it belonged.

"Oh. Oh, yeah. Seen tons of stuff," he replied falteringly.

"As far as the whole tattoo thing goes, I would do yourself a favor and not eat too much at dinner," she said lightheartedly.

"That shouldn't be a problem," Stiles told her. He held up the box of Captain Crunch, still keeping one hand on the steering wheel. "Dad's working late again. It's just cereal for me tonight."

"I feel ya on that one," she replied. "I'm living with one of my foster sisters here, actually. She's an ER nurse, so she works super late and sleeps all day. I barely ever see her."

"So you're not in a foster home in Beacon Hills?" Stiles inquired.

"No, I'm done with the whole foster home thing," she told him. "Technically I'm dodging the system 'cause I'm not eighteen yet."

"How does that work out, then?" he pressed.

"Well, Celeste is the oldest biological daughter of a couple of my foster parents. We met when I was fourteen and already sick of the whole foster kid business. She was in the middle of nursing school, but she told me when she was working and settled, I could come live with her. I thought it was one of those empty promise things, but I got a call from her a month ago and now here I am."

"Is she, like, your legal guardian now?"

"Not legally at all," she told him. "I put her down as my emergency contact for school and stuff, and the lease is under her name, but I still pay my half of the rent. She's there for me when I need someone over eighteen, but otherwise she does her thing and I do mine, and I like it that way."

"Are you guys close?" Stiles asked.

"Not really. I mean, I barely knew her when I was staying with her parents––only saw her for holidays and stuff. I just think she saw enough foster kids go through her parents' house and she finally wanted to give one a chance. Maybe she saw something in me, I don't know. But I'll be forever grateful, no matter what."

"Wow, that's really cool of her to do," Stiles said.

"Oh, take a right up here!" Lacey interrupted, turning her bike.

Stiles hadn't even thought to ask for directions. They had been traveling down the main road the entire time; at this point, they were only a couple miles from school. He followed her into a small housing community that he had passed many times on his way to school, but had never actually been inside.

"You're really close to school here," he observed aloud.

"You mean Beacon Hills High?" she asked, seeming excited. "Do you go there?"

"Well, yeah, I mean, it's the only high school in town," Stiles replied, smiling.

"Oh. I didn't know that," she said.

"I'm guessing you're going there too?" he asked, trying not to sound too eager.

"Yeah, my first day's tomorrow!"

"It's good that you're not starting in the middle of the year or anything," Stiles told her. "You get a fresh start like everyone else."

"It's gonna be so nice to have at least one friend there," she admitted, turning to smile at him.

"Yeah, I can totally show you around and stuff," Stiles offered, trying to sound cool.

"Okay, this is me up here." She pointed to a driveway in the cul-de-sac in front of them. She sped up and glided into the driveway. Stiles followed suit and pulled his jeep into the driveway as well.

She nudged her kickstand down with her heel and approached the passenger door again. This time, she let her arms rest on the door frame and peered inside at Stiles.

"Exactly how far is school from here?" she asked him. "And how do I get there?"

"I would say it's two miles max and all you have to do is follow that main road we were just on and then you'll see it on your left."

"All right." She just looked at him for a second, a slight smile on her lips, and he felt like he couldn't breathe. "Well, thank you again for driving beside me on my way home."

"Anytime," he replied, surprising himself with his smoothness.

"Oh! Let me get your number, just in case," she said, reaching into her back pocket and withdrawing her phone. She offered it to him and he took it, quickly punching in his number.

He handed it back. She looked at her phone screen, seeming confused. "'Stiles Stilinski'? Something tells me that Stiles isn't your real first name."

He laughed. "It's just a nickname."

"Huh. I like it," she admitted. "I'll text you so you have my number."

"Great," he returned.

"Well, tell Scott good luck with the tattoo," she insisted.

"Will do!"

"And good luck yourself," she teased. "Here's hoping you don't hit the deck!"

Stiles grinned at her. "Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yep!" she replied. "I'll see ya tomorrow, Stiles."

"See ya." And with that, he backed slowly out of the driveway, seeing her silhouette wave at him before collecting her eggs and walking through the front door.

His phone bleeped and he eagerly looked down at it, thinking it was Lacey. However, it was a text from Scott:

Dude where ru?

Stiles hadn't realized that his escorting Lacey home had made him late to pick up Scott for his tattoo appointment. He sped toward Scott's house.

"There you are, bro!" Scott exclaimed as Stiles pulled his jeep up to the curb. Scott hopped into the passenger side and clicked his seatbelt on. Stiles quickly pulled away from the curb and they were on their way.

"What took so long?" Scott asked curiously.

"I just got held up at the grocery store," Stiles said truthfully.

"By what?" Scott pressed, sensing that his best friend was holding back.

"A girl," Stiles admitted, smiling at the thought of her.

"If you're late because you ran into Lydia at the grocery store…" Scott began.

"No, not Lydia," Stiles told him. "Lacey."

"Lacey? Who's Lacey?"


	2. Chapter 2

"So, where's this mystery girl?" Scott asked jestingly as he and Stiles approached the front doors of the school.

"I don't like that you say that like she doesn't exist," Stiles retorted. "She does exist...and I told her I'd meet her here."

The two halted at the top step and sat down, staring out over the expanse of the parking lot.

"Junior year…" Stiles breathed. "You think this year we can actually be popular and things can just be normal?"

Scott smiled crookedly. "Judging by that crazed deer attack last night, I'd say things probably won't be going back to normal anytime soon."

"So we strive for popularity," Stiles joked.

"Yeah, I guess––Oh, jeez!" A look of dread suddenly flushed across Scott's face.

Stiles followed his gaze out to the parking lot, where he saw Alison and Lydia climbing out of Alison's car.

"Stiles, do you think we can wait somewhere else?" Scott pleaded.

"No, man, I told her I would wait for her here!"

"I'm just gonna head to class then, see ya there!" Scott tried to escape, but Stiles grabbed his arm and forced him back into a sitting position.

"Really, dude? Is this how it's going to be all year?"

Scott exhaled. "I guess not," he sulked.

"Sheesh, man up," Stiles told him, thumping him on the back. "It's you and Alison, man. Everything will work out."

"I hope you're right," Scott confessed.

"Oh, there she is!" Stiles exclaimed, seeing Lacey approach from the parking lot. He watched with some degree of horror as she crossed paths with the two other girls. "...and now she's talking to Lydia and Alison."

_(With Lydia and Alison)_

"Hey, is that Scott and Stiles up there?" Alison asked, trying to appear indifferent.

"Very good, Alison," Lydia replied with her usual level of sass. "Of course that's Scott and Stiles. And, look, I know you and Scott broke up, but can we try to make this a little less awkward? It's our junior year, we should be enjoying it with our friends, not avoiding them at all costs."

Alison sighed. "Yeah, I guess you're right. We've had four months. We just need to get back to normal." She steeled herself. "We can be friends."

"That's my girl." Lydia gave her an encouraging smile and linked her arm in hers. "Now, let's march up there and talk to them like there's absolutely no weirdness."

"Right, no weirdness."

As the girls walked toward the main entrance, Lydia noticed a girl she didn't recognize walking beside them a few feet off.

In her usual audacious Lydia fashion, she turned her head toward Lacey and demanded, "And you are?"

Alison could only slightly be heard scolding "Lydia!" under her breath.

"I'm Lacey." She introduced herself without skipping a beat.

"You're new here," Lydia stated. She stopped walking and faced her, forcing both Alison and Lacey to follow suit.

"Yeah, I am, actually," Lacey agreed.

"You don't look like a freshman." Lydia appraised her.

"That's 'cause I'm not. I just transferred––I'm a junior."

"Us too!" Alison offered, trying in some way to apologize for Lydia. "I'm Alison."

Lacey beamed at Alison. Then, she turned her attention to Lydia, raising her eyebrows. "And you are?"

Alison tried to stifle a laugh. Lydia's narrowed her eyes at Lacey, but then allowed a slight smile to escape.

"I'm Lydia." She offered her hand and the two girls shook. "You're gonna do all right here, Lacey." She turned and continued walking; Alison and Lacey followed.

"I hope so," Lacey responded. She looked up at the school building looming above her, and she caught sight of Stiles sitting on the steps.

"We can show you around if you want," Alison offered kindly.

"Yeah, totally," Lydia seconded.

"That's really nice of you guys, but I've actually already got a tour guide," Lacey told them.

"Oh, really? So you know people here?" Lydia questioned.

"No, not at all, except… do you guys know Stiles?"

Lydia and Alison exchanged a look.

"All right, what was that?" Lacey demanded. "What's wrong with Stiles?"

Lydia stopped the parade again and gestured for Lacey to join her in a sort of huddle. "There's nothing wrong with Stiles––" she shook her head, "can't believe I just said that. But you see the guy he's sitting with?"

"That's Scott, right?"

"Yes––it's eery how fast you catch on. Anyway, he and Alison broke up before summer and it's still a little...completely awkward." Lydia pursed her lips and gave Alison a side-eye look.

"Was it a bad break up?" Lacey asked her.

"No, it was fine, it's just...you know…" Alison chewed her bottom lip nervously.

"Well, sorry if this is awkward, but Stiles already agreed to take me around. I can just see you two in class, or..."

"Oh no, it's no problem," Lydia insisted, shooting Alison a look. "We're trying to do normal."

"Are you sure?" Lacey asked, looking only at Alison.

"Yep. Normal." Alison nodded briskly. "Let's go."

The girls climbed the remaining stairs and walked straight up to the boys. Stiles had a huge grin on his face, while Scott looked uncomfortable, to say the least.

"Hey, guys," Stiles greeted the three of them.

"Hey, Stiles," Lacey chimed back, smiling.

"I see you've met Alison and Lydia," Stiles commented, smiling at the other two girls.

"Why, yes she has," Lydia responded. "Hey, Stiles. Scott."

"Hey," Scott finally squeaked, "Lydia...Alison…" His face was scrunched up like a raisin.

"Hi," Alison breathed, barely audibly, her eyes darting around.

"Scott," Stiles valiantly stepped in. "This is Lacey. We met yesterday and I told her I'd show her around today."

Scott stuck out his hand. "Scott McCall," he introduced himself. His face still looked pinched.

Lacey smiled warmly and shook it. "Nice to meet you, Scott. How's the tattoo doing?"

"Tattoo?" Lydia asked, suddenly very interested. "You got a tattoo?"

"Uh...we, uh, actually missed the appointment," he replied nervously, rubbing his healed tattoo self-consciously.

"Oh, that's a bummer," Lacey told him, frowning slightly. "I hope that had nothing to do with me."

"No, not at all. My mom made me do the dishes after dinner, so…"

"Ah, I see."

Scott couldn't help but feel like Lacey was looking straight through him.

"Well, I have to run to the main office and get my welcome spiel from the principle before English, so should we…?" She looked at Stiles.

"Yeah, let's––"

"Oh, Stiles, I totally forgot I have to talk to you...about the summer reading," Scott interrupted. He looked to Lydia, making sure to keep his eyes off Alison. "Do you two mind…?

"Course not," Lydia replied, giving him a little smile. "We'll see you two in English."

"So sorry, Lacey," Scott said. "I promise he'll show you around later." He smiled weakly.

"It's totally fine! See you guys in class," Lacey assured him. She completely hid her disappointment. "Let's go, ladies."

The three girls departed.

As soon as they were far enough away, Stiles turned on Scott, but before he could say anything, Scott interjected.

"Look, dude, I know, I know. That wasn't cool, but I couldn't be around her anymore––"

"So, this is about Alison? They were just getting ready to––"

"No, Lacey!" Scott sputtered.

"Didn't know an introduction could go that badly. What was it exactly, the way she said 'nice to meet you,' or––"

"Stiles, I'm serious! I, like, want her, man!"

Stiles looked dumbfounded. "Oh, come on! Scott, I kinda figured it was implied, but I've got dibs!"

"No, you don't get it." Scott seemed to be calming down. "I think it's a wolf thing. Her scent is…" It looked as if his eyes had glazed over. He shook his head and blinked a few times.

"What do you mean, her scent? Does she have nice perfume or something?" Stiles looked utterly confused.

"No, it's just _her_," Scott explained. "It's her scent. I don't know how else to explain it."

"I guess that explains why you looked constipated during that entire conversation... I just thought it was an Alison thing." Stiles rubbed the nape of his neck thoughtfully.

"Do you think she thought that?" Scott asked quickly, looking stricken.

"Man, one thing at a time!" Stiles urged. "This scent craziness, can you control it?"

"I mean, it's better now that I can be ready for it, but…"

"But, what?" Stiles pressed.

"I don't want her up here," Scott pointed to his head, "but, I don't know, it's...primal…"

"Well, you better do your best to keep your primal instincts in line," Stiles told him, "'cause we have class with her in, oh, five minutes!"

Scott sucked in a huge breath.

"It would be pretty embarrassing if you ripped her clothes off in the middle of our first English class," Stiles joked, beginning to walk toward the building.

"Too bad that's exactly what I want to do," Scott said under his breath, trudging after Stiles as if he were being sent to the gallows.

_(With the Girls)_

"I just wanna stop by my locker before class," Lydia said. She strutted down the row of lockers and, upon finding hers, popped it open and proceeded to gaze at herself in its tiny mirror.

Alison gave Lacey a covert eye-roll and both girls smiled. "Lydia, really? We've got class in like––"

"There's always enough time for a touch-up, Alison." Lydia flashed her a dazzling smile in the mirror's reflection. "Besides, I actually have people to impress today."

"Oh yeah, who's that?" Alison questioned, leaning up again a locker.

"Freshmen," Lydia trilled, slamming her locker shut as she did so and turning to face them. "Or should I say fresh _men_."

"You mean fresh _boys_?" Alison asked, amused. "Lydia, they're, like, 14."

Lydia gave a non-comital "hmph" and openly appraised a group of boys walking by.

"Lydia, I have to say, having a 14-year-old boyfriend would probably be more trouble than its worth," Lacey advised.

"Oh, dearest Lacey," Lydia cooed, putting a hand on Lacey's shoulder and batting her long lashes, "I'm not looking for a boyfriend. I'm looking for a distraction."

As if on cue, the front doors burst open and two men––twins––wearing motorcycle jackets strode into the hallway.

Lydia turned to the girls. "Well, would you look at that?"

Lacey and Alison this time took part in a group eye-roll as Lydia ogled the new specimens as they approached.

Then, without warning, one of the two lunged in the girls' direction and pinned Lacey up against a locker.

"Hey," he practically panted as he pressed himself closer. "I'm Aiden."

Thankfully, at that moment his brother was grabbing him by the leather collar of his jacket and literally dragging him backward. He was whispering in his ear as he did this, something indiscernible to human ears.

_"__I don't know what she is, but you can't do this here."_

Then, he turned his attention to the three girls. "I'm Ethan," he spat through gritted teeth. "And he's sorry." With that, the two continued down the hall, Ethan still gripping Aidan's jacket.

The girls watched them go, silent. They all exchanged a bewildered look.

"Well, you gotta hand it to him for being direct." Lydia was the first to break the silence.

Alison brushed it off. "Did you hear what he was saying to him?" She looked at Lacey.

Lacey seemed as if she were about to say something, but then thought better of it. "No, I didn't."

"I can't believe a guy like that is allowed to go out in public," she continued. "Come on, we should go to class." She began to walk the opposite way that the twins had come and the other two followed.

"I thought it was kind of hot," Lydia mused, looking at Lacey.

"Lydia!" Alison scolded.

Lydia looked utterly perplexed. "What? If a guy like that pressed _me_ up against a locker, I wouldn't be complaining."

"It was threatening," Alison asserted.

"Don't worry, Lydia, he's not exactly my type, anyway," Lacey told her, offering a weak laugh. "All yours!"

"What do you have that I don't?" Lydia wondered, looking Lacey up and down.

Lacey gave a shrug as they almost collided with Scott and Stiles in front of their English class.

"Hello, again," Stiles said pleasantly as he stepped aside to let the girls in.

"Dude, I can't sit by her. Don't make me sit by her," Scott whispered to Stiles.

"Right," Stiles whispered back. "Lacey!" he exclaimed as he walked through the doorway. "Come sit with me by the window!"

"Maybe he's into freckles…" Lydia persisted as she, Lacey, and Stiles found seats by the window.

"Who's into freckles?" Stiles asked a little too concernedly.

"Oh, just some guy who's super into Lacey," Lydia told him.

"Wh–what guy?" Stiles asked again, struggling to remain nonchalant.

"Just some guy in the hall, Stiles," Lacey assured him, settling into her desk. She looked over at him. "Not my type."

"That's you giving me the go-ahead, right?" Lydia inquired.

Scott and Alison had found an uncomfortable seating situation in which the only desks available were two in the same row. Alison chose the one in the front and Scott had no choice but to sit down right behind her. He noticed her heartbeat. It wasn't the faint flutter sitting next to your ex in class brought. He leaned forward.

"Alison, is everything okay?" he asked earnestly.

"What?" She turned to look at him. "Oh, yeah, yeah, everything's fine." A faint smile and she was seated forward again.


	3. Chapter 3

All of the sudden, the classroom was overcome with cell phone ringtones and vibrations.

Lacey looked down at her phone and read the text. She shook her head, smiling, as everyone around her stared down at their phone screens, perplexed.

"What's so funny?" Stiles asked beside her.

"It's _Heart of Darkness_," Lacey whispered.

"Well, that doesn't really sound that funny at all," he quipped.

Just then, their teacher, Ms. Blake, strode in, explaining that the quote was the last line in _Heart of Darkness_ and that it was the last text anyone would receive in her class. Everyone complied and turned their phones off.

As the last phone screen went black, the principal was at the door. He went directly to Ms. Blake and whispered something to her. Then, he turned on heel and left the classroom as if he had never been there.

"Scott McCall," Ms. Blake announced, "I'd like to see you in the hallway, please."

Scott followed their English teacher from the room and Alison, Lydia, and Stiles all exchanged concerned looks.

Lacey leaned nearer to Stiles. "What's going on?" she whispered.

"I dunno," he replied. "But usually when Scott is pulled outta class, it's not good."

As Lacey nodded and sunk back into her seat, she noticed Lydia's bandaged ankle.

"Lydia, what happened to your ankle?" she asked curiously.

Lydia turned in her seat to look at her. "My dog, Prada, bit me," she told her with a dismissive shrug.

"Has Prada ever bitten you before?" Stiles asked, seeming very interested.

"...No…" Lydia admitted.

"Sure would be weird if we'd had some other bizarre animal encounters…" Stiles commented.

"Have you?" Lacey asked.

"Well…"

"Rules of threes," Lydia said under her breath. "That would be the deer, Prada, and then…"

Suddenly, with a startling _crack_ a crow hit the classroom window, killing itself.

Ms. Blake had long since reentered the classroom and was in the beginning of her lecture. She stopped dead when the crow hit the glass. She took on a bewildered expression and began to walk toward the window. Stiles, Lydia, and Lacey all saw what she saw: a swarm of black crows in the distance.

Slowly, then all at once, the crows were hitting the glass, splattering it with their blood and feathers. Then, as if in slow motion, one crow broke through, falling into the classroom. And that began the onslaught. Crow after crow broke through the glass until the room was swarming with them.

"GET DOWN!" Ms. Blake screamed over the other screams and the sound of breaking glass.

Lydia, Stiles, and Lacey had already instinctively thrown themselves on the ground under their desks. Allison had crawled across the classroom to join them. Glass was flying everywhere, as were the bodies of crows. Stiles protectively covered all three girls to the best of his ability.

Then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over. A strange silence settled over the room as students unsteadily rose to their feet, assessing the damage.

"What the hell was that?" Stiles wondered, his voice low and uneasy.

Lacey looked at him and shook her head, dazed. Stiles looked down and noticed with slight embarrassment that his hand still held Lacey's arm. He lightly released it and was repaid with a shy smile.

Ms. Blake had just hung up the classroom phone. "All right, class," she announced, her voice obviously shaky, "I've called the police and they should be here soon to investigate. As for all of you, the principal has given me permission to dismiss you to your parents. Call who you can and have them pick you up as soon as possible." She looked completely frazzled.

"I'm going to call my dad," Allison said without missing a beat.

"Good," Lydia replied, her eyes gazing off. "Can he take me home too?"

Allison nodded, dialing the number on her cell.

Fifteen minutes later, the room was swarming with fretting parents and police officers. Stiles' father was interviewing Ms. Blake and his officers were assessing the damage.

Mr. Argent glided into the room and headed straight for Allison. He asked his daughter repeatedly whether or not she was all right, to which she answered in the affirmative. Just then, Sheriff Stilinski walked over and began asking him questions about animal behavior, wondering if his hunting experience would give him any insight.

"You girls can get your things. I'll meet you outside," he told Allison and Lydia. They both nodded and moved toward the door. Lacey and Stiles stayed behind in the classroom.

They both stood there for a moment, dazed. Stiles was the one to break the silence. "So, pretty eventful first day, huh?"

Lacey smiled distractedly. "Yeah. I guess Beacon Hills isn't as tame as I thought it was."

"My dad definitely has his hands full," Stiles said, to which Lacey nodded. "You know, I'd introduce you but––"

"Now's not the time," Lacey finished his thought. "Speaking of which," she continued, "I should probably duck out now and start walking home before they realize they didn't release me into the care of a guardian."

"Wait, you walked here today?" Stiles inquired.

"Yeah, I mean, I don't have a car or anything. Once I get a lock for my bike––"

"Do you want a ride to school tomorrow?" Stiles interrupted.

"No, I'm okay. It's actually a really short walk and I don't want you to have to––"

"Let me rephrase that," he interjected again. "Will you let me drive you to school tomorrow?"

Lacey gave him a quizzical look, not sure how to answer.

"Look, if you haven't noticed, things have gotten a little crazy around here," Stiles began. "I just… don't want anything bad to happen to you. And you walking to school alone sounds like a tragic news story waiting to happen."

"Stiles, it's just some rabid crows or something. I don't see why that should keep me––"

"Lacey, please just trust me on this. There have been other things. I don't have time to explain now, but––"

"I'll be fine, Stiles," Lacey tried to soothe him. "I can take care of myself."

"I don't doubt that." Stiles looked like he meant it. "It's for me, really. It's a clear conscience thing…"

Lacey looked conflicted.

"How about just until you get a bike lock?" Stiles tried one last effort.

"You're persistent." She let herself smile.

"So, that's a––"

"It's a yes," she caved. "But only until I get my bike lock."

"Totally. Yes. Deal."

She picked up her backpack from where it was slumped against a desk. "Now that that's settled, I should get going." She started walking toward the door. Stiles followed.

"Don't you mean _we_ should get going?" Stiles asked.

"I thought you said…"

"You don't happen to have gotten a bike lock in the last ten seconds, did you?" A mischievous smile.

She rolled her eyes at him. "So now you're my personal taxi driver?"

"Looks like it."

"Well, you better be good at sneaking," she said as she slid unseen out the door. Stiles followed suit.

_(With Allison and Lydia)_

Allison and Lydia walked toward their lockers to retrieve their things. As they swung the metal doors open, both were deep in thought. They silently grabbed their books and slammed their lockers shut in unison.

Allison exhaled and leaned against her locker.

"What are you thinking?" Lydia questioned, stepping around so that she looked her square in the face.

"Doesn't it seem weird that Lacey moves into town and all of the sudden these bizarre things start happening?"

Lydia pursed her lips for a moment and considered it.

"I mean, Stiles met her last night and then the deer ran into our car. Today is her first day of school and crows commit suicide on our classroom window. It just seems too coincidental," Allison explained. "And I don't think the thing that happened with the twins was just high school hormones."

"What do you think it all means?" Lydia inquired.

"I don't know yet," Allison admitted. "I mean, we don't know anything about her at all."

"That's true," Lydia agreed.

"And that makes me nervous," Allison told her. "Especially for Stiles."

"What do you mean?" Lydia asked, perplexed.

Allison gave her a look.

"Oh, please, do you think he has a crush on her or something?" Lydia scoffed. "Allison, Stiles has been in love with me since the third grade. A tall, freckly new girl isn't going to change that." As if to make a point, she plucked a tube of lip gloss from her bag and applied it to her full lips.

"Sounds to me like you're a little jealous…" Allison raised her eyebrows at her friend, the hint of a smile on her face.

Before Lydia could offer her retort, the girls were approached by an unknown woman.

"Where's Scott McCall?" she demanded urgently.

Both girls were stunned into silence. When neither of them would answer, the woman desperately grabbed their arms and squeezed tight. With that, she was gone, leaving Allison and Lydia to stare confusedly at their bruised arms.

_(With Stiles and Lacey)_

"Stiles, is everything okay?" Lacey questioned, glancing at Stiles as he drove.

"Yeah. Great. Why do you ask?" he tried to answer calmly.

"I can see the whites of your knuckles," she responded.

Stiles looked down at his hands, which were gripping the steering wheel in a painful ten-and-two position. He did his best to relax them, but that didn't change the fact that his thoughts were going a mile a minute. He laughed tightly. "I guess I've just got a lot on my mind."

"Why do I get the idea that there's more to this than everyone's letting on?"

Stiles was taken aback at her directness.

"Wh-what do you mean?" he sputtered, internally scolding himself for his lack of togetherness.

"I just sense that there's more to this than crows," she explained. "And somehow you and your friends are at the center of it."

Stiles was a bit uneasy. Why did it seem like _she _knew more than she was letting on? He didn't know how to respond to her.

"You can't tell me." It was a statement, not a question. "And I don't need to know, Stiles," she assured him, sounding sincere. "That's your business, not mine. I just wish I could help."

"I'm not sure if you can help," he admitted truthfully. "It's just something we have to deal with."

"Got it. Enough said," she replied.

They were silent for a moment.

"It helps that you're letting me drive you to school tomorrow." His remark broke through the silence.

"If keeping me from becoming a tragic news story makes you feel better, I guess I can deal." She gave him a playful eye roll.

He let himself crack a smile. "It's not just that," he insisted. "You strike me as the kind of girl who can kick some ass when she needs to." To this she nodded and laughed slightly. "I also just kinda like talking to you...so, it'll be nice, ya know, driving you."

Lacey turned toward the window so that Stiles couldn't see how much she was smiling. "Unfortunately, I'm not the best conversationalist," she replied bashfully.

"I don't think you give yourself enough credit. Besides, right now, you're the only normal friend in my life. If I can get ten minutes of normal a day, I can handle the rest."

"I'm sure it's nice to step back every now and then," Lacey sympathized.

They had arrived at her house. Lacey hopped out, but kept the door open.

"I wish I could tell you," Stiles confessed to her as she stood in the door frame.

"I'm glad you can't," Lacey decided. "Let's just be normal friends for now, okay?"

"Okay," Stiles happily agreed.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning," she told him. With that, she slammed the door shut and walked up to her front door.

Stiles drove away, and just as the night before, his phone went off as he was leaving Lacey's housing complex. He pulled over, excited at the prospect that it might be her. Again, it was Scott:

Come to Dereks now. emergency


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles pulled up to Lacey's house at exactly 7:30. She simultaneously opened the front door and jogged over to the jeep.

"Good morning," she greeted him, sliding into the passenger seat and shutting the door.

"Hey," he responded. "Ready for school?"

"Let's just hope there aren't any crows today," she joked.

When they got to school, Scott was waiting for them, standing next to his motorcycle.

"Hey, guys," Scott said, falling in step with them as they headed toward the school building.

"Good morning, Scott," Lacey reciprocated. "Oh, cool!" She stopped him where he stood and clutched his arm. "You got the tattoo!"

Scott beamed proudly. "Yeah, I did! My friend ended up doing it for me last night."

He and Stiles exchanged a look. It wasn't a lie, but they were sure Lacey didn't know that Derek had done it with a blow torch.

"Can I see the whole thing?" she asked, still fascinated.

"Sure." Scott rolled up his shirt sleeve to reveal both black rings.

Lacey lightly traced it with her fingers. "Wow, it's even healed up already. Your friend must be some tattoo artist." She looked up to see Scott watching her with a cautious expression. "Oh, sorry, I probably shouldn't touch…"

"Nah, it's okay," Scott practically purred at her, flexing the slightest bit.

Stiles had been covertly observing Scott this whole time to make sure he was in control around Lacey. Sensing that he needed to intervene, Stiles said, "He may heal fast, but he did faint before it was finished."

Scott shot him a look over Lacey's head, to which Stiles replied with his own look. Scott seemed to realize what he was doing and snapped out of it.

"No way. From the pain?" Lacey questioned.

"Yeah, I guess," Scott replied with a forced laugh. "But Stiles stayed conscious the entire time!" He clapped his friend on the back, grinning at him.

Stiles grinned back, letting his friend know how appreciative he was. "I don't know how, though." He laughed.

Lacey laughed too, stepping away from Scott. The three continued walking.

"By the way, I meant to ask you guys, do you know where to get a job around here?" Lacey inquired.

"The vet's office I work at is actually hiring!" Scott offered promptly. "I mean, my boss is looking for someone to fill in for me now that lacrosse season is in full swing."

"Really? Should I go by?"

"Yeah," Scott told her. "We could all go after school today so I can put a good word in."

"Would you really do that? That would be great," Lacey said.

"Yeah, definitely," Scott assured her.

Just then, Lydia and Allison intercepted them, falling in stride with them.

"Hey guys," Allison said.

"What are we talking about?" Lydia questioned.

Both seemed a bit too interested.

"Uh, I was just telling Lacey that I could probably get her a job at Deaton's," Scott filled them in.

"Really?" Allison asked. "Have you ever worked at a vet's office before, Lacey?"

"No, but I've always been good with dogs," Lacey told her. "Not so much with cats…"

"Me either," Scott admitted.

"Yeah, I think we're all dog people here," Stiles said. He smiled at his own private joke.

They walked through the school's front doors.

"I have to run to my locker before class," Lacey told them. "See you guys there."

Stiles made to follow her, but Lydia grabbed the back of his shirt.

"Stiles, you're staying," she told him firmly.

"Why?" he asked, turning around and shooting her a confused expression.

"Because we need to talk to you guys," Allison told him.

"Why, what's up?" Scott asked, sensing that they were serious.

Allison took a deep breath. "We need to talk to you guys about Lacey."

"What about her?" Stiles questioned.

"Exactly," Lydia shot back.

Allison elaborated. "Lydia and I have been talking, and we're not so sure all these weird things happening don't have something to do with the fact that she's moved to Beacon Hills."

Scott and Stiles looked shocked.

"Stop looking at us like that and just think about it for, like, half a second," Lydia urged. "It all adds up. The deer the night Stiles met her, the crows yesterday during our English class..."

"If you two can tell us you don't think anything's up, then we'll drop it," Allison reasoned.

"Well… no we won't. But we'll investigate without your help," Lydia corrected.

"There's no way Lacey is behind all of this," Stiles asserted defensively.

"We're not saying she's behind anything," Allison retorted. "But you know how animals can always sense when a storm is coming?"

"Yeah, that's usually a bad omen," Stiles admitted quietly.

"Did you ever think that maybe all these animals are going ballistic because there's some sort of Lacey storm coming?" Lydia asked.

"No way." Stiles shook his head, adamant.

"Stiles," Scott said in a reasoning tone, "you have to admit, there's at least one thing we both know is weird about her."

"What are you talking about?" Allison seemed set on interrogation.

"Uh...Scott says she has this weird smell…" Stiles told them, looking at the ground.

Lydia let out a laugh. "A weird smell? B.O. is hardly evidence of evil."

Scott looked wildly uncomfortable. "No, it's, uh...more of a…good smell."

"Scott basically wants to jump her bones every time he catches a whiff," Stiles explained.

Allison and Lydia looked intrigued and disgusted all at once.

"See, that's what we're talking about." Lydia looked them both in the eye. "We know virtually nothing about this girl, but we can all tell that something's up."

"So, maybe there's a lot we don't know about her," Stiles admitted. "But is there a lot she knows about us? Scott's a friggin' werewolf and she has no idea."

"She could be a werewolf for all we know!" Lydia exclaimed.

"That's the one thing we know she's not," Scott corrected her. "I would have smelled it right away."

"So we can check werewolf off the list," Allison said. "Let's all just keep an eye out, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Stiles agreed half-heartedly.

"We will." Scott said sternly, more to Stiles than to Allison or Lydia.

"Good. Well, we'll leave you two to your thoughts," Lydia announced. "See you in English." She and Allison promptly left.

Stiles let out a huffy breath and ran his hands through his hair.

"Look man, I know you don't wanna hear it, but there's something fishy about her," Scott said delicately.

"You don't seem to think so when she's around," Stiles retorted.

"Well...yeah. That's 'cause she's got me in her weird scent-trap thing," Scott shot back.

"Now that you say it like that, it does sound a bit dangerous," Stiles admitted less defensively. "Scott, I just don't want there to be anything wrong with her."

Scott raised his eyebrows slightly, looking at his best friend. "You really like her, huh?"

Stiles nodded. "Yeah, I do. There's just something about her…"

"You can't smell it too, can you?" Scott joked, slapping him on the shoulder.

Stiles smiled tightly.

"Dude, don't even worry about it," Scott reassured him. "We'll figure it out. That's why I jumped at the chance to take her to Deaton's. If anyone can tell us what she may be, it's Deaton."

"You're right about that one," Stiles agreed.

"And, if there's nothing wrong, maybe we can get your new girlfriend a job," Scott said playfully, watching for Stiles' reaction.

"Hey, she's not my girlfriend yet." Stiles socked him in the arm. He quickly recoiled. "Man, why does punching you always hurt me more than it hurts you?"

Scott chuckled. "Let's go to class." He turned and walked down the hall, Stiles following, shaking his injured hand in the air.

When the two entered the classroom, Allison, Lydia, and Lacey were already seated by the newly repaired window. The boys walked in and sat down. They were almost immediately followed by Isaac, who stalked in just as the bell rang.

"Hey, guys," he mumbled as he sat down in front of Scott, right next to Lacey. He did a double take as he noticed the stranger sitting next to him, no doubt catching her scent as well.

He turned in his seat and, extending his hand suavely, uttered, "Hey, I'm Isaac."

"Lacey," she said, gripping his hand.

Isaac held on for what seemed an eternity, openly staring, until Scott covertly kicked him in the calf. Isaac's eyes widened and he straightened up, whipping around to face the front. Scott noticed his fingernails lengthening as he gripped the edges of his desk.

"Isaac––" Scott began to whisper.

"Good morning, class," Ms. Blake trilled from behind her podium. "I see you've all returned in one piece after our little crow mishap on Monday." Her eyes swept the classroom. "Mr. Lahey! So happy you could join us today. I hope you feel better after your stay in the hospital."

Isaac laboriously nodded, swallowing hard and continuing to grip his desk.

Ms. Blake nodded back. "Today, class, we're going to be beginning _Heart of Darkness––_"

The screech of desk feet on linoleum interrupted her as Isaac clumsily got out of his desk and stumbled hastily for the door. He whipped it open and practically ran outside, slamming it behind him.

"Uh, I think Mr. Lahey is still feeling a little sick," Scott spoke up quickly. "I'd better go check on him." Without waiting for permission, he ran out the door.

"So, I guess it's all werewolves, then," Lydia observed in a whisper to Allison.

"Then that would have to mean…"

"The twins," Lydia finished her thought. "The twins are werewolves too."

"Only one of them lost his cool, though," Allison reminded her.

"You're right." Lydia pursed her lips in thought.

"Maybe it's only certain types of werewolves," Allison suggested.

Scott found Isaac in the locker room, standing fully clothed under a cold shower.

"What the hell was that?" Isaac exclaimed as soon as he saw Scott.

"Dude, I should have warned you," Scott told him. "I just didn't know you would be at school––"

"So you smell it too?" Isaac demanded.

"Well, ye––"

"Scott, what the hell is she?" Isaac demanded once again.

"We don't know, exactly," Scott told him calmly. "But man, you need to keep your cool."

"I was about to tear her clothes off with my teeth…" Isaac said quietly, almost to himself.

"Isaac, believe me, that was me the first time I met her, too." Scott couldn't help but be amused. He cracked a smile.

"It's not funny, man," Isaac told him, looking so concerned and pathetic that Scott smiled more.

"Do you think you can keep it together till the end of school?" Scott asked.

"Let's hope so," Isaac responded, turning the shower off. "You can go back to class, I just have to change into my gym clothes or something."

"Maybe sit by the door?" Scott suggested.

"Good idea," Isaac answered.

After school, Lacey and Stiles followed Scott to Deaton's veterinary practice. Scott parked his motorcycle and instantly headed for the door, Stiles and Lacey catching up to him as he opened it.

"Deaton!" Scott called when he set foot inside.

In seconds, Deaton was at the doorway to the operating room, appraising all three of them.

"Hello, Scott," he greeted his employee. "Stiles."

"Hey, Deaton," Stiles returned.

"And who do we have here?" Deaton asked, looking at Lacey.

"This is Lacey," Scott introduced her. "She's the girl I called you about earlier." Scott and Deaton exchanged a knowing look. "You know, the one looking for a job?"

"Ah, very well. It's a pleasure to meet you, Lacey," he said directly to her. "Do you have a resume for me?"

"Yes, I do," Lacey told him. "But I just realized I left it in my backpack."

"It's unlocked," Stiles said before she could ask. She smiled at him and scurried outside, promising to be back in a minute.

Deaton opened the gate to his office and Scott and Stiles walked through. Once they were safe in the operating room, he turned quickly to Scott.

"Scott, I didn't understand what you meant in your voicemail," he told him. "What did you mean by saying you wanted me to 'figure out what she is?'"

Scott quickly explained the situation.

"Well, I'll do my best," Deaton promised. "But I'm no psychic."

They all fell silent at the sound of the bells on the front door jangling.

"Come on back, Lacey," Deaton encouraged. "We're just in the operating room."

"Okay!" she replied.

When they all expected to hear the sound of the gate swinging open, they heard nothing. Instantly, they all rushed to the reception area, to find Lacey staring perplexedly at the gate. As they watched in awe, she extended a hand to open it, but was unable even to touch it.

"I don't understand…" she whispered. She looked up, flustered. "Is this some sort of trick?"

"That's Mountain Ash," Deaton told her.

Scott, Stiles, and Deaton watched as Lacey's face took on a look of pure horror.

"So, I guess I'll just, um…" Lacey shifted uncomfortably on her feet, not looking any of them in the eye. "I'll just leave my resume here and…" She placed it on the table in the reception room and hurried out the door, bells jingling violently.


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles and Scott stared at each other, unable to speak. Deaton gazed after Lacey. Then, Stiles was moving, bursting through the gate and out the door after her.

"Lacey!" he yelled. She was at his jeep.

"Can you unlock the door, please?" she asked him, voice hollow. "I locked it on accident when I came to get my resume."

"Lacey, look, you don't have to leave," Stiles assured her. He walked over so that he was standing in front of his jeep, facing her.

"I think I do, though," she replied, still not making eye contact. "Stiles, can you just unlock the car?"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it."

He moved over to the passenger side of the car where she stood and turned the key in the lock. He opened the door for her and she grabbed her backpack by the top strap and straightened up. He shut the door. She sighed deeply and leaned against the jeep's blue exterior, while he stood with his arm propped against the side mirror. Her proximity was staggering. She turned her brown eyes on him and he could finally see the hurt in them.

"I'm just so embarrassed," she confessed.

"No, no, don't be––"

"Was that your plan?" she asked. "To bring me here and test me?"

"Not exactly––"

"Stiles, was it?" Her eyes pierced him.

"Honestly, no," Stiles told her. "Not for me, anyway. I basically forgot about the whole gate made of Mountain Ash thing."

"And Scott?" she pressed.

"I don't know. Maybe?"

"Hm."

Stiles hurried to defend his best friend. "I know he's also been stressing about getting his job filled here, so I think he really wanted Deaton to hire you. Finding out what you are was just kind of a bonus."

She sighed. "I guess I understand. I've heard you guys talking about me."

"Look, Lacey––"

"And I heard you defend me," she added, gazing up at Stiles.

He was suddenly flustered. "Yeah...well…"

"Thanks," she said simply. "And listen, Stiles, I would have told you. I just wanted to be the normal friend that you wanted. At least for a little bit."

He smiled. "So, you're not mad?"

She let out a breath. "No. Just hot-headed." She laughed slightly.

He tentatively put an arm around her and was relieved, if not elated, when she leaned into him. He squeezed her for a second, then let go. Then they just stood there for a moment, leaning on each other, not saying anything.

"Do you wanna go back in?" he asked gently.

She nodded. "I still need this job," she joked, moving out from under his arm and striding back toward the building.

Stiles opened the door for her and she walked in. Deaton and Scott stood in the doorway to the operating room where she had left them. Without hesitation, Deaton stepped forward and swung the gate open.

"Would you like to join us in the operating room, Lacey?" he inquired kindly.

"Yes, I would," she replied. She gratefully walked through and Stiles followed, making sure to pick her resume up on his way.

Scott turned to her as soon as they were in the operating room. "Lacey, I'm so sorry––"

"Scott, it's okay. As I'm sure you heard me tell Stiles," she paused, letting him realize she knew he was eavesdropping, "I completely understand."

"Yeah, but I shouldn't have gone about it like that," he admitted ashamedly. "I should have just asked you."

"You probably should have," she agreed, slightly scolding. "But you didn't know that you could trust me." She looked at Deaton. "And I'm sorry for running out. Very unprofessional."

Deaton smiled, finding humor in her. "That's quite all right."

"Not exactly the 'fight or flight' reaction you'd expect from an animal of prey, huh?" she asked them all, laughing a little bit. "Some wolf I am."

Scott and Stiles looked shocked all over again. Deaton a little less so, but still curious.

"You're a werewolf?" Scott asked, flabbergasted.

"Well, yeah..." Lacey replied, looking confused. "I thought the whole Mountain Ash thing kinda tipped you off."

"Lacey, maybe you are unaware of the fact that Mountain Ash guards against all things supernatural, not just wolves," Deaton offered.

"Oh," she said. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"So you're a werewolf?" Stiles repeated.

Lacey gave him a perplexed look. "Are you guys still not getting this, or…?"

"No, no, I got that," Stiles assured her. "But, if you're a werewolf, then why couldn't––"

"Then why can't I smell you?" Scott demanded. When Lacey shrugged, he turned to Deaton. "Why can't I smell her?"

Deaton was stumped as well.

"Maybe my scent is just weak?" Lacey guessed. She turned to Deaton. "I take it you're some sort of expert on the supernatural?"

Deaton nodded. "Yes, I'm a Druid and I was an emissary to the Hale family for a large portion of my life. We consider ourselves well-informed on the supernatural, especially werewolves."

"So, does 'use it or lose it' apply to werewolves then?" Lacey continued.

"I'm not sure what you mean," Deaton told her, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean, is it possible to become less of a werewolf over time if you don't use your powers? I'm thinking my scent may be weak because I'm barely a werewolf anymore."

"What do you mean 'barely a werewolf?'" Scott pressed, intrigued.

"I mean I haven't changed in over ten years," Lacey confessed.

For the third time, Scott and Stiles were stunned into silence. This time, even Deaton showed shock on his face.

Lacey exhaled a huge breath. "Stiles," she said, "do you remember when I told you my parents died when I was seven?"

Stiles nodded.

"Well, they were both werewolves. They were killed by a rival pack...actually, a few of them," she told them. "I was pretty young so I don't remember a ton. They knew the other packs were coming for them, so they sent me away with our emissary. He dumped me on the stoop of an orphanage and told me to tell them my name was Lacey McCarter." A glimmer of pain flashed across her face as she said it. "I've been in the foster system ever since."

"I don't get it," Stiles said quietly. "How does that lead to you not changing for ten years?"

"Oh, right." Lacey seemed to have forgotten the point of her story. "Before my parents left me, my mom told me never to show anyone what I was until the time was right. Then my dad said I'll know when I've found a pack that I can trust. And on the way to the orphanage, my emissary told me I would be wise to never change again."

She shook her head. "At seven, fear kept me from changing. I knew it had killed my parents, so I never wanted to be a werewolf again. But as I grew up I started really thinking about it and I think my emissary gave me the best advice. Being a werewolf causes nothing but trouble."

Her eyes flickered over to Scott. "And by the way your heart just sped up, I know you can see where I'm coming from."

Scott returned her gaze, telling her everything he needed to with his eyes.

"But what about full moons?" Stiles demanded. "Didn't you ever go crazy during the full moon?"

"Nope. I was born a werewolf, so I learned to control myself during a full moon when I was four."

Stiles looked impressed.

"And you never had a single slip up?" Scott pressed.

"Not one," Lacey confirmed.

When Scott looked so puzzled it hurt, Lacey put a hand on his shoulder. "Scott, how long have you been a werewolf?"

"About a year," he mumbled.

"I had been a wolf for seven at that point and it's all I had ever known. In six years, you'll be more masterful than you can imagine."

"But we know people who have been werewolves for their whole lives and they still have slip-ups," Stiles observed.

"I'm guessing they aren't actively trying _not_ to be werewolves," Lacey answered. "And they're most likely provoked into changing. I was never put in situations that made me want to change."

"Like what?" Scott asked.

"Like attacks from other werewolves, or whatever the heck else is out there."

"But what about when you get mad?" Scott interrogated further.

She smiled a little. "That's kind of my go-to emotion. It's what keeps me human. It's like…"

"Your anchor," Scott finished the sentence for her.

"Yeah, exactly! Anger is my anchor."

Stiles gave Scott a comical look of concern. "Sounds a lot like someone else we know," he said.

"Who?" Lacey asked, curious.

"Derek Hale," Scott almost laughed.

"Should I know who the Hale family is?" Lacey asked.

"Oh yeah, you haven't met Derek yet," Scott said. "or Peter."

"Let me tell ya, you're in for a real treat," Stiles dead-panned. "Big ol' ball of sunshine, Derek is. And Peter's worse."

Lacey turned confusedly to Deaton. "And you worked with this family?"

Deaton smiled slightly. "I worked mostly for Derek's mother, Talia. She was a wise and powerful alpha in her time. The majority of the Hale family, Talia included, was burned alive in their home by Kate Argent," he explained. "Derek and his uncle, Peter, are all who remain."

"...Argent?" Lacey questioned, looking instinctively to Scott.

"Yeah, Allison's aunt," Scott confirmed.

"She's dead now, though," Stiles assured her.

"So Allison's family...?"

"Hunters," Deaton answered.

"Hunters," Lacey echoed. "I think hunters came after my parents, too."

"Why is it that so many wanted your parents dead?" Deaton asked, interested.

"Like I said, I don't remember much," Lacey reminded him. "But I think my parents were very powerful. They were both alphas of their own packs before they got married. Then they made a sort of super-pack."

"At that point did they both remain alphas, or did one take over?" Deaton pressed, picking up steam.

"Both of them stayed alphas," Lacey told him. "That much I know. They always said the best power is shared power."

"Interesting," Deaton mused. "It's not often that I've hear of a dual-alpha pack. They are said to be very powerful, but impossible to maintain," he continued. "Many find it difficult to share power."

"Not my parents," Lacey asserted.

"Apparently not," Deaton granted. "But those that survive are usually torn down by those who are threatened or hungry for power."

"Exactly," Lacey said.

"What became of their pack when they were killed?"

"Um...I think they tried to send them all into hiding before the big showdown, but none of them budged. I assume they all died, too."

"Were you close with any of them?" Deaton inquired.

"Not really," Lacey admitted. "My parents kept me out of pack business. I was close with my emissary, though. He was like my nanny and my teacher and my grandfather all rolled into one."

"And when you say teacher, do you mean…?"

"Wolf stuff," Lacey read his mind. "My parents taught me a lot, too. Self-control and skills and whatnot. But he taught me history and strategy."

"Strategy?" Scott interrupted.

"Yeah, kinda the ins and outs of being an alpha," Lacey continued. "My parents were both great alphas, but they wanted me to be independent from them. I guess they thought I should be my own person––or werewolf––or whatever."

"How did they know you were going to grow up to be an alpha?" Scott asked.

Lacey shrugged again. "I really don't know. Maybe they just assumed? I mean, I guess I had genetics on my side."

"I didn't think that was how it worked," Stiles stated. "I thought you had to kill the one that bit you."

"Me too," Scott agreed.

"Stiles, you're correct in thinking genetics have nothing to do with whether or not someone becomes an alpha. But there's also something called a true alpha," Deaton told them. "It's an alpha who can gain power without taking it."

"Is that what you are?" Scott asked, turning to Lacey.

She thought for a moment. "That would make sense. Mom and dad taught me how to fight since I could walk, but they always said…" Lacey was quiet for a moment, searching for it. "They always said what they were teaching me was self-defense only."

"They weren't training you to be a killer?" Deaton mused.

"No, they weren't," Lacey replied. "They always told me I would never need to kill anyone."

"So your parents somehow knew you were going to be a true alpha," Deaton said pensively. "But it's usually a latent ability. A true alpha will only rise when he or she finds a pack that needs a leader."

"And, at seven, I doubt I was ready to lead a pack," Lacey said.

All of the sudden, something inside of Deaton seemed to ignite. "Lacey, what's your date of birth?"

"Uh, June 12th, 1997," she said, "what does that have to do with––"

"Hold on." Deaton hurried from the room, heading for his office. Stiles, Scott, and Lacey stood there, eagerly awaiting his return. They heard a desk drawer open, the rustling of paper. Soon enough, Deaton was back in the operating room, clutching a scrap of paper.

"Lacey," he began, "what did you say your emissary's name was?"

"I didn't." She almost seemed hesitant to say. "But it was Jared."

"I believe I crossed paths with Jared once," Deaton told her, voice low, eyes locking with hers. "Talia Hale brought him to me."

Lacey looked perplexed. "So, this Talia Hale, she knew him?"

"Not exactly," Deaton explained. "But she saved his life."

She didn't reply, only waited for him to continue.

"She and her pack came across him when he was close to death. They caught wind of a rival pack in the area and when they went to investigate, they discovered that they had Jared with them. But he wasn't their emissary. They had been torturing him for information.

"Talia brought him to me late that night, saying that he kept requesting their emissary." He looked carefully at Lacey. "Jared was in very poor shape. Lacey, I'm sorry to tell you that he died that night."

Lacey stood frozen for a second, processing. "He was an old man when he looked after me," she said calmly. "I guess I sort of assumed that by now he would be…" She surveyed the room momentarily. "Did he die in this room?"

Deaton only nodded. He continued on in nearly a whisper, "But not before telling me to write this down." He held out the slip of paper, which only had a few numbers scrawled across it. All three of them looked at it curiously.

"That's… my birthday," Lacey observed, her eyebrows knitting together.

Deaton turned the piece of paper over. It had a first and a last name scrawled across it.

Lacey's breath caught in her throat. "No one has called me that in over a decade," she said.

"Is this your birth name?" Deaton asked.

"Yes."

"As soon as she brought him in, Jared demanded that Talia leave and only come back on my command," Deaton told her. "He didn't want her hearing what he had to tell me."

"My birthday and my name?" Lacey was utterly perplexed.

"He kept saying 'no one can know' and 'protect my little girl' over and over again," Deaton explained. "He wasn't sure if he could trust Talia and her pack, but he said he could trust a fellow emissary. He seemed to think you were in some sort of danger."

"So the packs that killed my parents wanted to finish the job," Lacey said knowingly.

"Exactly," Deaton replied.

"I always figured that was why he put me in his weird little form of the witness protection program," Lacey admitted. "But did he ever give you my fake name?"

"He tried," Deaton assured her. "But he died before he could get it out."

Lacey nodded. "How did he know we would cross paths?" she inquired.

"At first I thought he wanted me to seek you out," Deaton told her. "But, of course, he didn't give me enough information for me to do that. As of right now, it seems to me that he somehow knew we would meet."

"I used to swear that old man was psychic," Lacey said with a little smile in the corner of her mouth.

"I don't dabble with the psychic realm, but it definitely sounds like he knew more than he let on," Deaton agreed. "However, I want to focus on the time when I thought he wanted me to seek you out."

"Okay…" Lacey looked skeptical.

"I did as much research as I could with your birth name and date of birth, but I found nothing. No hospital records, announcements, anything."

"Yeah, well, my mom had an at-home birth," Lacey explained.

"Lacey, are you aware of what happened on the night of your birth?" Deaton asked.

"No…" she responded, looking carefully at Deaton.

"A blue moon rose in the sky," he told her.

"Oh," Lacey said, seeming disappointed.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Scott piped up, recognizing that Deaton had more to say.

"It means that Lacey's parents didn't just assume she would be an alpha. They made sure of it."

"How?" Lacey demanded.

"It is rumored that if a true alpha gives birth to an offspring fathered by another true alpha in her wolf form during the height of a blue moon, that offspring will be a true alpha as well. It's impossibly difficult to time and I have never heard of a case that succeeded.

"Lacey, when I looked up your birthday and saw that it was the night of a blue moon, I knew why Jared was so concerned with keeping you safe."

"Why, though?" Lacey asked. "There are plenty of true alphas out there, and they're not all in danger."

"There are less than you think," Deaton informed her. "And if my research is correct, you're even more of a rarity than a true alpha."

"What do you mean?" Lacey demanded, growing impatient.

"Lacey, what color are your eyes when you're in your wolf form?" Deaton questioned.

"Silver," Lacey said without hesitation.

"Silver?" Scott questioned. "I thought there was only red and yellow. What does silver mean?"

"It means Lacey is a superlunary alpha," Deaton said.


	6. Chapter 6

"A what-y what?" Stiles asked.

"A superlunary alpha is one of the rarest types of werewolves in the world," Deaton informed them all. "Like I said, it is almost impossible to create one. It's not often that two true alphas become mates. And even then, the timing has to be optimal."

"So you're saying I'm some sort of supernatural miracle?" Lacey almost laughed.

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

Lacey was silenced by his seriousness.

Stiles spoke up. "I still don't get it. What's the difference between a true alpha and a superlunary alpha?"

"A true alpha is powerful, but any expert on the supernatural could tell you that a superlunary alpha is at least twice as powerful," Deaton explained. "They are also more closely connected to the moon."

"How is that even possible?" Scott asked. "I feel like my whole life is ruled by the moon."

"It is," Deaton admitted. "But she_ is_ the moon. Her everyday nature is altered by it."

"Hold on," Lacey demanded. "I feel like the moon effects me just as much as it does any other werewolf I've met."

"It should have tipped me off earlier when you said you don't remember learning to control yourself during the full moon," Deaton said. "Because I don't think you ever had to learn at all."

"Really?" she asked.

"Normal werewolves are driven into a frenzy when the moon is full because it's as if the wolf part of them worships the moon. Imagine how someone would act around his or her favorite celebrity."

"Then shouldn't I worship the moon more if it's part of me?" Lacey wondered.

"No, because to you the moon is like an old friend," Deaton said. "You are at your best and strongest when the moon is full because that is when the moon is at its best. Maybe it's more like your shadow… or your twin, perhaps."

Lacey looked winded.

"Maybe this is too much information for one day?" Scott inquired, sensing her fatigue.

She nodded slowly. "I think you're right."

"This has been quite the information overload for me as well," Deaton agreed. "I look forward to discussing more with you, though, Lacey. Superlunary alphas are practically an unknown species to me."

"I would be more than happy to come back and talk," Lacey told him.

"How about Monday afternoon during your first shift?" Deaton questioned.

"My first shift?" Lacey tried not to grin.

"I feel good about hiring you here, Lacey. Werewolves have proved to be exceptional employees." He put his hand on Scott's shoulder and they exchanged a smile.

"Well, thank you," Lacey replied. She extended her hand for a shake.

"No, thank you," Deaton insisted. "I'm glad I don't have to be short-staffed when Scott has practice." He shook her hand and began to move toward the front office, the three others following behind him.

Once in the office, Deaton held the gate open for them. As they filed through, Lacey's hair brushed under Scott's nose.

"What are you doing?" Lacey asked as Scott's hands grabbed for her hips.

Scott, embarrassingly realizing what he had done, retracted his hand instantly.

"And why has your heart been beating like that?" she demanded. "It sounds like it's about to burst out of your chest."

"I, uh…" Scott stumbled over the words.

She turned to face him. "Seriously, Scott, what's wrong?" she asked more quietly, the edge leaving her voice. "I noticed it the first day I met you, but I thought that was about Allison."

Stiles sensed his friend's struggle. He walked over and, putting a hand on his chest, instructed, "Scott, just take a big whiff of me."

Scott complied and took in a noisy inhale, his face troubled.

"Yeah, I know," Stiles joked. "I forgot to put on deodorant after gym today."

Scott laughed slightly, returning to himself at the change of scent. He whipped around to face Deaton.

"Does the fact that her scent drives me crazy have to do with her being a superlunary alpha?" he asked.

Before Deaton could answer, Lacey cut in. "What do you mean, 'drives you crazy'?"

Scott's face flushed. It was Stiles to the rescue again. "It's like you have the world's best perfume on...all the time."

"To everyone?" Lacey looked unconvinced.

"No, just werewolves," Stiles told her.

A look of understanding washed over Lacey. "Your friend Isaac this morning, his heart was doing the exact same thing. He acted like a lunatic, too."

Scott mustered a nod. He looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, Lacey. I've been really good at controlling myself, but I guess I left my guard down and you were just so close…"

"It's okay," Lacey reassured him. "Now that I know you're not just being a perv."

She laughed, then turned to Deaton. "Any ideas?"

"I have no concrete answer for this one," he admitted. "But it may have more to do with the animal world than the human world."

"Why do I get the feeling that I'm not gonna like where this is going?" Lacey cringed, looking warily at Deaton.

He smiled a bit. "Because your mother gave birth to you in her werewolf form, it means that you are slightly more in tune to the animal world, too. In the wild, male wolves look exclusively for a female that will bring him strong offspring. Maybe your scent tells the animalistic side of all werewolves that you would make a good mate."

"That is...wildly uncomfortable," Lacey commented.

"I guess that makes sense, though," Stiles said. "It seems like a superlunary alpha would be just about the best mate a werewolf could find."

"Yeah, I guess it's not a conscious thought so much as an instinct," Scott agreed.

"I guess I'll leave you with that," Deaton told them. "I really must get back to work. And you three probably have homework to do."

He closed the gate and smiled at the three of them, nodding in farewell.

"Scott, I'll be seeing you. And Lacey, I'll see you Monday."

"See ya, Deaton," Scott said as the three of them exited the small building.

They were all three silent on their walk across the parking lot. When they got to Stiles' jeep, they all just stood there, looking blankly at each other.

"I think I need a good nap before I do homework," Lacey joked. "That was a lot to take in."

"Yeah," was all Scott could say.

"Any other questions you need answered?" Stiles asked, slightly sarcastic.

"Actually, there is one thing…" Lacey began hesitantly. She cracked a smile. "Is everyone in Beacon Hills a freaking werewolf? I swear, walking into school is like an assault on my nose. Between you and Isaac and the twins, I can't keep up."

"Twins?" Scott looked concerned.

"Yeah, the twins," Lacey replied. "You know, the kinda meat-heady guys? Look exactly like each other?"

"No, I haven't had the pleasure," Scott told her. "And I definitely didn't know there were new werewolves in Beacon Hills."

Scott and Stiles exchanged a worried look.

"That doesn't sound good," Lacey noted.

"I think I should go talk to Derek," Scott announced.

"I'll go with you," Stiles told him. "Lacey, I can drop you off on the way."

"Nah, I can walk from here," she replied.

Stiles gave her a look.

She gave him a look of her own. "Stiles, now more than ever you know I can defend myself. I am a superlunary alpha, after all." She said the last bit as a mock brag.

"We had a deal," he replied, looking at her expectantly.

She sighed. "'Kay, fine. Let's go."

He smiled at her, satisfied, and unlocked the door to his jeep.

"I'll meet you over there?" Scott asked over his shoulder as he walked to his motorcycle.

"Yep," Stiles answered as he climbed into the driver's seat. He reached over and unlocked the passenger door so Lacey could do the same.

Before opening her door, however, Lacey called after Scott. "Scott?"

He swung around. "Yeah?"

"You know not to tell anyone about what we found out today, right?"

"Yeah, of course not," Scott told her, sounding sincere.

"Not Derek, not Isaac, not even Allison and Lydia...yet."

"You got it." He smiled good-naturedly before pulling his helmet on.

As they pulled out of the parking lot, Stiles glanced over at her. She was biting her bottom lip, eyes staring unseeing out the window.

"You know, I'm no werewolf, but it's almost like I can hear the gears turning in your head," Stiles told her.

"It's just a lot to take in," she confessed.

He waited patiently for her to speak.

"I don't know, I guess I just thought I was like every other werewolf, which was hard enough. And now I find out I'm some kind of crazy supernatural jackpot that my parents scientifically engineered or something."

"Well––"

"Deaton made it sound like everyone would want to kill me if they knew. So now I have to worry even more about anyone finding out."

"I think––"

"On top of that, I'm now aware of the fact that I smell like some sort of werewolf aphrodisiac. So that's weird, I guess…"

"Lacey."

"What?"

"Breathe."

She closed her eyes, and blew her breath out heavily. "Right. Thanks."

"Everything's gonna be okay," he told her. He shot her a smile.

She shook her head, not able to conceal her smile. "And how do you know that?"

"'Cause you're with us now," he said simply.

She stiffened. "Stiles, you don't understand. I can't be 'with' you guys. Now more than ever I have to stay out of all this werewolf business. There's no way I can join the pack. I just––"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Lacey, that's not what I meant at all," Stiles cut her off. "I just meant that, you know...we're your friends. We've got your back."

"I just don't want all this to mean that things are going to change. Especially not me."

"Lace, no one's gonna make you change. Just because we know all these things now doesn't mean we're gonna make you live your life any differently than you have been for the past decade."

"Did you just call me Lace?"

Stiles fumbled. "Uh, yeah. Sorry, is that––?"

"I like that." She smiled to herself. "No one's called me Lace in a really long time."

They were silent for a moment, neither one knowing what to say.

"I can trust you, Stiles." It was a statement, not a question. "I'm just worried that I may not be able to trust Scott."

"Listen," Stiles said. "I told you the first night I met you that Scott's like my brother. I know him. And he's not one to go back on his word."

"That makes me feel a little bit better," she admitted.

"Yeah, and I know how to keep him in line," Stiles told her, sarcastically macho.

"Can I trust Allison and Lydia?" she asked him.

"I mean, I trust them," he replied. "But it's really your call."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said. She paused for a moment. "Thanks for listening to all my craziness."

"Anytime," he assured her.

They had arrived at her house. She got out and they exchanged their goodbyes.

In 15 minutes, he was at Derek's front door. He walked right in, finding Scott and Derek standing at the table in the center of his loft.

"Hey, guys," he called. "Sorry I'm late."

Derek grunted a greeting. "Why are you late, anyway?" he asked as Stiles approached the table. "You two are usually a second behind each other."

"Oh, I was driving Lacey home."

"Who's Lacey?"

Scott smiled devilishly. "Stiles' new girlfriend."

"Man, can you just––?" Stiles sputtered, his face flushing. "She's not my girlfriend. We're just friends."

"I don't need to know these things, anyway," Derek snorted.

"There's something you may actually wanna know about her…" Scott began.

"Really? What is it?" Derek asked, seeming interested at the tone of Scott's voice.

Stiles shot Scott a scathing look.

"Uh, she––uh––she's really hot." Scott looked like he wanted to die.

Derek looked half confused, half offended. "Thanks, Scott. Good to know."

Stiles thumped Scott on the back of the head.

"Any other enlightening information you'd like to share with me today?"

"No," Scott said, looking thankful to be off the hook.

"Besides I knew she was hot already," Derek told them.

"How would you know that?" Stiles asked, getting defensive.

"Based on the way your heart speeds up every time someone mentions her, she's gotta be way out of your league, Stiles." Derek smiled mischievously, looking pleased with himself. Scott couldn't help but snicker.

"All right, all right," Stiles said, rolling his eyes. "Can we just talk about the twins already?"

Derek looked curiously at him. "Twins?"


	7. Chapter 7

(Sorry this one took so long to post. Been busy lately. Already working on Chapter 8. Enjoy!)

The next day, Scott and Lacey stood by Scott's bike, chatting while Stiles took a phone call.

"So how'd it go with Derek last night?" Lacey questioned.

"Good," Scott told her.

Lacey looked at him in slight disbelief. "So, telling him about two steroid-popping, mysterious new werewolves in town went 'good?'"

"Yeah…" Scott began, sounding less certain. He scratched the back of his head. "He thinks it's weird that they're at school. He doesn't want me involved, but this is making him think that I'm going to be involved whether he wants me to or not."

"Ah," Lacey responded. "What would they want with you?"

Scott shrugged. "I never really know what anyone wants with me."

"Are they a threat?" she pressed.

"Well, if they're who Derek thinks they are, they're part of some alpha pack that's recently come into town," Scott said.

"Alpha pack as in…?"

"Different than what your parents had. Apparently, it's a pack full of werewolves who killed their entire packs in order to join this new one as alphas."

"Shouldn't be a problem then," Lacey quipped.

Scott smiled and scuffed his shoe on the ground. "I just wish I knew who they were."

"Looks like you're about to get your chance," Lacey said in a whisper meant only for werewolf ears. She shifted her eyes ever so slightly to the left, where two sleek, black motorcycles were barreling their way into the lot.

Scott pretended to text as the two dismounted and strode by. Lacey offered a smile as they passed, taking notice that Ethan had moved to stand on the side closest to her and was attempting to edge his brother away.

They waited until the twins were out of earshot to speak.

"So?" Lacey prodded.

"They definitely shouldn't be ignored," Scott said.

"Don't worry, they won't be," Lacey replied, raising her eyebrows and looking after the twins.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Scott questioned, the faintest smile brushing across his lips.

"What's that look for?" Lacey demanded.

"You think they're hot, don't you?"

"Please," Lacey scoffed. "Totally not my type."

"Wow, your heartbeat didn't even rise," Scott teased.

"That's 'cause I'm serious," Lacey told him, laughing. "I'm not into that."

"So what are you into? Pale and scrawny?" Scott asked.

"Yeah, I guess so," Lacey shot back.

"I think I know a guy..." Scott said.

Scott smiled devilishly and Lacey tried to keep her heart rate steady as she realized Scott meant Stiles. He raised his eyebrows at her.

"You're the worst," she commented, playfully shoving him.

"Whoa, whoa!" Stiles exclaimed as he returned to them. "What's the problem here, guys?"

Lacey was just a little too quick to say, "Nothing!"

"We were just talking about the twins," Scott told him.

"Oh," Stiles said, not looking convinced. "I just saw them too. Big fellas, aren't they?"

"Yeah," Lacey agreed. "I was just getting ready to tell Scott that I think we should warn Lydia and Allison about them."

"Lydia and Allison?" Scott asked, looking befuddled.

"Come on, Scott," Lacey said. "They may not be my type, but I know Lydia already has her eye on one of them."

"Just one? Why not both?" Scott asked. "It's not exactly easy to tell them apart."

Lacey shrugged. "I don't know. She seemed to like the one who went all primal on me. Thought it was sexy or something..."

Something had occurred to Stiles. "So only one went crazy around you the other day?"

Lacey nodded.

"Yeah, come to think of it, I only heard one heartbeat going off the charts when they walked by," Scott admitted.

"What do you think that means?" Stiles questioned, turning to Lacey.

"No idea," she told him. "I wish I knew more about this whole superlunary alpha thing." She bit her lip.

"Hey, no worries," Stiles assured her. "We'll figure it out."

She smiled thankfully at him. "In the meantime, one of you has to tell Allison and Lydia that those two are dangerous."

"Why can't you?" Scott asked. "Seems like more of a girl thing than an ex-boyfriend thing."

"I can't. I'm not supposed to know anything about this stuff, remember?" Lacey reminded him.

"Right." Scott looked troubled. "I just don't wanna seem like… I don't know…"

"Like you care as much as you do?" Lacey finished his thought.

Scott looked like Lacey had hit the nail on the head.

"Scott, it's really just Lydia you're warning," Lacey tried to console him. "Allison didn't even seem interested."

"Can't you just tell them that they have STDs or something?" Scott asked, looking desperate.

"I guess I could," Lacey shrugged, looking open to it.

"There, it's settled then" Stiles stated.

"Stiles, why don't you just do it?" Lacey asked, looking inquisitively at him.

"Well...uh...I can't," Stiles struggled.

"What do you mean, you can't?" Lacey pressed.

"I can't talk to girls," Stiles tried.

"Then what am I?" Lacey asked, crossing her arms.

Stiles was at a loss for words.

"Stiles has been in love with Lydia since third grade," Scott blurted.

Stiles looked like a deer in the head lights. "You know, I may have had a little crush on her for a while..."

"As in eight years?" Lacey teased. Only Scott could detect the disappointment in her voice.

"Yeah, I guess about that long," Stiles admitted. "But not anymore, as of recently."

"Really?" Lacey asked, looking unconvinced.

"Really." Stiles tried to sound as firm as possible.

"Okay, so since both of you have history with Allison and Lydia," Lacey began, ignoring Stiles' protest, "I have to do this?"

"Exactly," Scott answered.

She sighed. "Fine, I'll tell them they have STDs."

"We owe you," Stiles said, smiling at her.

She shook her head, cracking a smile. "Let's go to class."

The three of them started walking toward the building. "By the way, what was the long phone call about?" Scott asked Stiles.

"Oh!" Stiles remembered, lighting up. "That was my friend, Heather."

"Heather?" Scott asked.

"Yeah, you know, my friend since birth, practically?" Stiles told Scott. He looked at Lacey. "Our moms were best friends."

"Oh. Well, what did she want?" Scott asked.

"She's turning seventeen tomorrow, so she's having her birthday party tonight and we're going!"

"Sounds fun," Lacey said.

"Doesn't Heather go to Beacon Hills Prep?" Scott asked, looking hesitant.

"Yeah, so?" Stiles replied.

"Isn't it weird to go to another school's party?"

"Not really. And Heather said she'd introduce us to all her friends. It'll be fine," Stiles assured him.

"Come on, Scotty, live a little," Lacey urged.

"I guess it could be cool," Scott consented.

"Sweet! It's on," Stiles said, enthused. "You know, Scott, there will also be a ton of girls there." He raised his eyebrows.

Scott shook his head.

"What? I'm just trying to help my boy out," Stiles told him.

"I'm not ready," Scott stated. It sounded as though he had said it a thousand times before.

"Aw, come on––"

"Not ready for what?" Allison asked as she and Lydia walked up to them.

"To feel like a fish out of water at another high school's party," Lacey said without skipping a beat. Scott and Stiles glared at her.

"What party?" Lydia demanded.

"Stiles' friend Heather," Lacey informed them.

"It's her birthday party," Stiles added, somewhat strained.

"But, you know, she goes to Beacon Hills prep, so it'll probably be pretty weird," Scott tried to divert them.

"I've heard BHP has great parties," Lydia commented.

"You guys should go," Lacey told them, beaming.

"Really?" Allison asked, looking unsure.

"Yeah, totally," Lacey replied. "We can all go. It'll be fun!"

"I don't wanna impose or anything, I mean––"

"Allison," Lydia stopped her, "you're not imposing if they've invited you." She turned to Lacey. "We'd love to."

"Great," Lacey said. "What time do you think we'll head over?" she asked Stiles.

"Uh… probably around eight?"

"Can you pick us up at my house?" Lydia asked.

"Sure," Stiles told her.

"Cool." She turned to Allison. "We can get ready at my house before."

Allison nodded, catching Lacey's eye. "Do you wanna come too, Lacey?"

Lacey lit up. "Yeah, that would be awesome. I may need some help, though…not too good with make-up and stuff."

"No problem there," Lydia said. "I'm a pro."

"She really is," Allison agreed.

"Speaking of which," Lydia said, "it's time for a touch-up." With that, she turned and strutted quickly toward the school's double doors. Allison had no choice but to follow.

When the girls had disappeared behind the closed doors, Stiles and Scott rounded on Lacey.

"What did you do that for?" Scott demanded.

"Why would you invite them?" Stiles begged.

To their sputters and protests, Lacey only smiled coolly.

"You said you owed me," was all she had to say as she raised her eyebrows at them both. She turned on heel and strutted toward the building.

"Can you believe that?" Stiles asked Scott, throwing his arms in the air.

"Well, we did owe her…" Scott shrugged and smiled at his friend.

Stiles couldn't help but stare adoringly after Lacey. He sighed. "I just don't want it to be weird for you, dude. I was hoping this was your night!"

"I'm not ready for it to be my night," Scott told him. "So let's make it yours." He clapped Stiles on the back.

"Yeah, I wish, man," he said truthfully. "But I don't know… I don't think she likes me the way I like her."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Scott told him supportively.

"Well, after being flat-out rejected for eight years, I don't exactly have a ton of confidence with girls," Stiles admitted.

"Lacey's different, man, believe me," Scott assured him.

Stiles smiled. "Let's hope you're right."

(With Allison and Lydia)

"So...what was that?" Lydia demanded of Allison.

"What do you mean?" Allison asked, knowing exactly what she meant.

"Inviting her to get ready with us," Lydia explained. "I thought we weren't sure about her…"

"We're not," Allison said, "but I panicked. I mean, she invited us to the party and then you mentioned getting ready right in front of her. I didn't want to be rude."

Lydia pursed her lips. "I guess it will be a good time to find out more about her," she admitted. "Since Scott and Stiles seem to have completely forgotten about the little chat we had yesterday…"

"Yeah, isn't that weird? It seems like they're right back where they started with her," Allison commented.

"If you think about it, it's not that weird," Lydia disagreed. "She's a pretty girl, Allison. Of course they've got their tighty-whities in a knot."

"Stiles, maybe," Allison retorted. "But Scott actually seemed concerned yesterday."

Lydia sighed. "Allison…"

"Look, I know it seems like I'm the ex-girlfriend in denial here, but I don't think it's that. I think they found something out."

"Wouldn't they tell us if they found something out?" Lydia asked, still skeptical.

"I would think so. But maybe there's more to it. I'm going to try to talk to Scott after class," she said, determined.

"Okay, you do that," Lydia told her. "Meanwhile, I'm going to be brainstorming questions for our interrogation."

Allison nodded absent-mindedly.

Once they were in class, Allison sat strategically behind Scott. As soon as she sat down, she immediately whipped out a piece of paper and pen and began scribbling out a note:

Can we talk later?

She crumpled it up and slid it onto the corner of Scott's desk.

Scott received the note, swallowed his trepidation and quickly scrawled back:

Lunch?

He turned ever so slightly in his chair and saw her nod yes.

After class, Scott and Stiles headed to their lockers.

"What do you think she wants to talk about?" Stiles asked.

Scott shrugged. "I have no idea," he admitted. "Maybe about the break up?"

"Could be," Stiles agreed.

"We never really got to talk the first day, you know, with the crows and all," he said.

"That's true," Stiles replied. "Do you think it could be anything else?"

"I think you do," Scott told him, realizing his friend was fishing.

"Well, you know, I was just thinking… maybe it has something to do with Lacey," Stiles explained.

Scott mulled it over. "I guess it could be."

"They still don't trust her," Stiles said. "You know their little girl party later is going to be them grilling her for information."

"I don't think––"

"I saw it in Lydia's eyes, man," Stiles assured him. "They want the truth."

"Why can't she just tell them?" Scott demanded. "It would make things so much easier…"

"For her or for you?" Stiles questioned.

Scott sighed, scratching the back of his head. "Both, I guess."

"I tried to tell her they were trustworthy, but I think she's having a hard time with this whole superlunary alpha thing," Stiles told him. "She barely knows what she is. I think she's trying to keep it under wraps till she knows more."

Scott nodded. "I think so too. I wish Deaton knew more."

"Yeah, that would definitely help," Stiles agreed. "It's weird when Deaton doesn't know something. He's kind of our Yoda."

Scott smiled. "I'm sure he's doing everything he can to figure it out. I don't think he likes not knowing either."

"And he didn't make it sound like there's a ton of reading he can do about it," Stiles commented. "It seems really rare."

"You don't think…" Scott began, his thought trailing off.

"That she's the only one?" Stiles guessed.

Scott nodded. "What do you think?"

"I think she may be the only living one," Stiles told him. "I have a theory."

"Go for it," Scott beckoned.

"I think her mom was one," Stiles explained.

"So you think it's hereditary?" Scott asked.

"Not exactly," Stiles continued. "But I think someone in her family had to know exactly what to do to conceive a superlunary alpha. I think it may have been passed down. Like, maybe it was some family secret until someone else caught wind of it and started spreading rumors about these 'superlunary alphas'."

"Do you think there were superlunary alphas outside her gene pool?" Scott asked curiously.

"I have no idea," Stiles admitted. "But I'd love to have a look at her family tree."

Scott looked to be deep in thought for a moment. "You know who could know about superlunary alphas…?"

"Argent, I know," Stiles said flatly. "It would definitely be helpful to have his bestiary right about now."

"Yeah," Scott replied, seeming distracted.

"Don't even go there, Scott," Stiles warned. "I don't think you should say anything to Allison about Lacey."

"But––"

"Scott, if Deaton didn't know, what are the odds that Argent is going to magically have all the answers?"

"But you just said you wish we had the bestiary right now," Scott countered.

"Yeah, I wish we did, but it's not really an option until Allison knows," Stiles said firmly.

"She could know…"

"Scott," Stiles leveled with him, "I'm as curious as you are. But it's not our secret to tell."

"Stiles, if she asks me dead on, what am I supposed to say?" Scott begged.

"Tell her there's nothing to worry about," Stiles implored.

"She's not going to buy that," Scott told him.

"Scott, I know you're puddy in the girl's hands, but you can't let this slip."

Scott drew in a sharp breath. "I know. I know."

"We don't know what kind of danger she could be in if word gets out," Stiles said quietly.

"I promise I won't tell," Scott said firmly, sensing his friend's distress.

"Atta boy," Stiles replied, clapping him on the back. "Just don't let Allison change that."

At lunchtime, Allison found Scott waiting for her in the cafeteria. Without saying a word, he stood up and they both walked outside. Once they had the privacy of their own picnic table, Scott spoke.

"So…what's up?" Was all he could ask.

"I just wanted to talk to you…" Allison trailed off. There were so many things she wanted to talk to him about. "…about Lacey."

More than ever, Scott had wished they were going to talk about their relationship.

"Oh…okay. What about her?"

"Why have you and Stiles completely let your guard down again?" she asked directly.

"I haven't let my––" He came to a screeching halt at the look she gave him.

"I know Stiles was a lost cause from the beginning, but I expected you to take us seriously. Especially considering your best friend seems to have a thing for this girl who might be a threat." Her eyes were scolding.

"Allison, I––"

"When we talked to you two the other day, I thought you seemed concerned, too," she talked over him.

"Well, I––"

"And Lydia thinks you're just distracted by a pretty face––"

"Do you think that?" Scott interjected before she could get another word out.

Allison looked like a deer in the headlights. "No, I don't," she was able to get out.

"Well…good," Scott said quietly. "'Cause I think I deserve a little more credit than that."

"I know you do," Allison responded, tenderness in her voice. "So that's why I came to you about this. I think you found something out."

Scott was silent, not knowing what to say.

"Did you?" she pressed.

"Um…"

"Scott, did you?"

She turned her brown eyes on him. It felt so good to hear her say his name again. It was all he could do to not tell her everything. But he remembered the promise he had made to his best friend.

"Scott?"

He realized he was ignoring her in his attempt to figure out something to say.

"Yeah, we did find something out," he told her honestly.

Allison looked offended. "Why didn't you tell us first thing?" she demanded.

"Because it's not my information to tell," he said. "But believe me, you have nothing to worry about. She's not a threat to us."

"Well, why can't you just tell me what she is?"

"I told you, it's not really my business," Scott repeated.

"So, you're just going to keep Lydia and me in the dark about this?" Her temper was rising.

"I guess, yeah," Scott replied. "Until she tells you herself."

"What makes you think she's going to do that?" Allison questioned.

"She likes you guys," Scott told her. "I think she was hoping you could be friends."

"We are friends," Allison retorted stubbornly.

"She knows you two don't trust her," Scott informed her.

"Does she know that you didn't trust her either?" Allison snapped.

"Yeah…she called me out on it, actually," he explained. "Allison, is something wrong?"

She stood up abruptly. "Everything's fine."

He rose too. "Allison, I don't know why you're getting so upset about this. If she was any threat you know I'd tell you."

"I'm sure you would."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Scott demanded.

"It means I don't know where your loyalties lie anymore, Scott," she fumed.

Scott was stricken. "What are you talking about?"

"I know we broke up, Scott, but that doesn't mean that you and Stiles can just ditch me and Lydia as soon as the new girl catches your eye. We're supposed to be friends."

"We are friends," Scott insisted. "Don't know why, though, considering I never got so much as an explanation for why––"

"Why are you making this about us?" Allison asked.

"Me? You're the one acting like the jealous ex-girlfriend."

Allison bit down hard on her bottom lip. She exhaled slowly and collected herself. She looked at Scott. "That's exactly what I wanted to avoid. Maybe Lydia's right…"

"What happened to me deserving more credit than that?" Scott threw at her.

Allison was silent. She wouldn't look at him anymore.

"Great. Well, I guess I'll see you tonight."

"Scott, wait––"

"Just know you have nothing to worry about with Lacey," he said. "I hope you know that I still wanna keep you safe." With that, he stalked off toward the cafeteria.


	8. Chapter 8

Lacey showed up at Lydia's house at 7:00, just as Lydia had texted her to do. The house was huge and luxurious, just as Lacey had suspected. She rang the bell and Lydia was there almost immediately.

"Lacey! Come on in," she beckoned. She lead her upstairs into her room, where Allison stood, studying several outfits laid out on the bed.

"Still deciding, Allison?" Lydia mused.

Allison laughed slightly. "Yeah, I am."

"That one's pretty," Lacey commented, pointing at a blue dress.

"That's actually the one I was leaning toward," Allison told her with a smile.

"Lacey, what were you thinking of wearing?" Lydia inquired curiously.

"Oh…um, I was just thinking of wearing this."

Lydia appraised Lacey's tank top, jeans, and sneakers with a look of near horror. "You didn't bring anything else?" she asked, trying not to be too impolite.

"No," Lacey told her, realizing she had made some sort of mistake. "I just thought this looked all right."

"You can borrow one of my dresses," Lydia told her. It wasn't an offer so much as a demand.

"Lydia, really, I'm fine in this," Lacey assured her, not wanting to impose.

"Lacey," Lydia leveled with her, "this is a BHP party. These kids have money. They're going to be dressed to kill. I can tell you now you'll be the only girl in jeans there."

Lacey sighed. "It's been a while since I've worn a dress. You may have to teach me how."

Allison laughed. Even Lydia couldn't help but crack a smile. "How are you in heels?"

"Like a giraffe in roller skates," Lacey admitted.

"We'll just have to make sure you don't get too drunk, then."

Lacey looked terrified.

Lydia rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Well, come on, sit down. Let's see what we can do with your hair."

As soon as Lacey sat down, the questions started flying.

"So, Lacey, where are you from?" Lydia asked.

"Colorado."

"What made you move here?"

"My foster sister lives here and she offered for me to come live with her."

"Foster sister?" Lydia pressed.

"Yeah, my parents died when I was seven. Been in the foster system from then till now."

"What happened to your parents?" Lydia rolled on.

"Lydia," Allison scolded quietly from the closet.

"Sorry…if you don't mind me asking," Lydia rephrased with only a fake trace of remorse.

"They were murdered," Lacey answered.

"By who?"

"Lydia!" Allison cried. She had stepped out of the closet, arms folded, glaring at her best friend.

Lydia glanced at her coolly through the mirror. "Yes?"

"Can you, uh, help me find a snack in your kitchen? I'm starving."

"Allison, you're hardly a stranger here––"

"Now," Allison commanded.

Lydia huffed a breath and followed Allison out the door.

"We'll be right back, Lacey," Allison called over her shoulder.

Once they were downstairs in the kitchen, Allison turned to face Lydia. "We can't do this," she said plainly.

"Do what?" Lydia asked.

"Grill her for information," Allison informed her.

"Why the hell not?" Lydia demanded. "This was our plan from the beginning. Just because Scott––"

"Scott made a good point," Allison told her. "She already knows she's under a microscope. We're not gonna get anywhere by being mean."

"Please. This isn't a 'you catch more flies with honey than vinegar' lesson, is it?" Lydia questioned, exasperated.

Allison shrugged sheepishly, to which Lydia responded with an eye roll.

"Lydia, Scott told me she's not a threat, and I believe him. Since it's not a matter of life or death, I think we'll be better off getting the information through trust instead of intimidation."

"So what're you saying, exactly?" Lydia asked.

"I'm saying we make friends," Allison explained.

"You mean get close to her so we can figure out her M.O.?"

"No, I mean actually be friends," Allison said. "Scott and Stiles seem to really like her and I think it would make things a lot less awkward if we could all be cool with each other. Besides, I like Lacey. I think we could actually be pretty good friends."

Lydia pursed her lips and glared Allison down. Then, she threw her hands in the air. "Fine. I'll be nice."

"It may take a little longer than grilling her for information, but I think this is a way better alternative."She eyed Lydia with a smile in the crook of her mouth. "Admit it Lydia, under all that skepticism, you kinda like her, too."

Lydia turned on heel and started striding back toward the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Allison inquired.

"I'm going to do my friend's hair," Lydia replied, giving Allison her 'are you coming or not?' look.

Allison chuckled and bounded up the stairs after Lydia.

When they re-entered the room, Lacey was admiring Lydia's large array of hair products and instruments.

"Hey," Allison greeted as they walked back in.

"Hey," Lacey returned.

"I hope you've been thinking about what you want to do with your hair," Lydia trilled.

Lacey looked overwhelmed. "Uh…well…"

"Just sit down," Lydia commanded, to which Lacey instantly responded.

Soon enough, Lydia had Lacey's hair pinned up and the curling iron heating up.

Lacey looked at Allison carefully in the mirror. "Where's your snack, Allison?"

Allison looked utterly helpless. Her eyes darted to Lydia's and back to Lacey's.

"Oh, I ate it in the kitchen," she tried. "I was really hungry."

"Oh," Lacey said. "What did you eat?"

"It was a… what do you call it, Lydia?"

Lydia's eyes seemed to bore through Allison, even through the mirror. "That's a silly question, Allison. You ate it after all…"

"Guys," Lacey stopped them. "I know you weren't getting a snack."

Lydia and Allison tried their best to look confused.

"I know you were talking about me."

Both Lydia and Allison attempted to splutter their defenses, but Lacey stopped them again.

"And I don't blame you, believe me." She spun around in Lydia's vanity chair to face them. "Look, I know it's been weird. Some random girl shows up in your town without explanation and inexplicable things start happening. If I were you, I would have pointed fingers at me, too."

"Lacey, we didn't mean…"

"For me to notice?" Lacey questioned calmly.

"Yeah…I guess," Allison admitted.

"Well, if I were any sort of normal person, I wouldn't have. But my hearing's just a tad bit better than normal," Lacey joked.

"So, what are you exactly?" Lydia asked flat out.

"I'm a werewolf," Lacey replied without hesitation.

Lydia and Allison both took a second to process.

"What's wrong with you then?" Lydia inquired. "We should have known this right off the bat."

"I'm not sure, exactly," Lacey admitted. "I think it has something to do with the fact that I'm a little out of practice. I haven't been in my wolf form in over ten years and apparently that means I've lost my scent."

"You haven't changed in ten years?" Allison questioned. "Why?"

"It's complicated. But just know that I'm not here to stir anything up. I'm just trying to be a normal high school student."

"So that's the big secret, then?" Lydia mused.

"Yeah, I guess," Lacey said.

"Why keep it a secret?" Allison asked. "I'm sure you've noticed werewolves aren't exactly a rarity around here."

"Again, it's complicated. I never meant for it to get out to Scott and Stiles in the first place, but I should have known that wouldn't last long."

"It's pretty hard to keep supernatural matters under wraps in Beacon Hills," Allison admitted.

"But this has to stay under wraps, okay?" Lacey said sternly, looking seriously at both girls.

She was surprised when Lydia piped up first. "Your secret's safe with us."

Lacey looked thankfully at the two of them. "I had a feeling about you two."

"You may wanna check your wolf senses, 'cause up until about ten minutes ago we were ready to torture you for information," Lydia informed her.

"Yeah, I know. Wolf hearing, remember?" she joked. "But really, Lydia, I would have been right there with you. I think we're kind of alike in that sense."

Lydia smiled at her. "Good thing we have Allison to keep us in line, then."

Allison rolled her eyes. "Oh brother, I don't think I can handle two Lydias. I can barely handle one."

"Hey!" Lydia protested. "I can handle myself, thank you very much."

"Yeah, okay…" Allison sassed her.

"Go put your dress on," Lydia commanded. "And you," she said to Lacey, "turn around so I can work my magic."

"So, how awkward do you think this is gonna be, on a scale of one to ten?" Stiles questioned as he and Scott drove toward Lydia's house.

"Try eleven," Scott told him miserably.

"Come on, it can't be that bad," Stiles said optimistically.

"We'll be lucky if the three of them haven't killed each other yet," Scott replied. "And even then, Allison and I won't be speaking all night."

"Man, it couldn't have been that bad," Stiles assured him.

"I called her my jealous ex-girlfriend," Scott told him.

Stiles winced. "So it was that bad."

Scott nodded, distraught.

"Well, Heather said there are supposed to be a lot of people coming to this thing. So there's a chance you won't have to see her or talk to her all night."

"Except for the fact that we're picking her up in a matter of minutes," Scott countered.

"All right, negative Nancy," Stiles said. "That's enough. It's a 15-minute drive at most, and you'll have three other people in the car. Can you just…?"

Scott let out a huge breath. "Yeah, I guess you're right. It's a party. It'll be fun."

"That's the spirit, my man!" Stiles slapped Scott on the back.

"I feel ridiculous," Lacey stated as she teetered down the stairs on the sky-high silver heels Lydia had let her borrow.

"Well, you look hot," Lydia responded, standing back to admire her work.

"Yeah, but I can't walk worth a damn and I'm pretty sure my entire butt is hanging out of this dress," she griped, pulling down the back of the black minidress.

Allison and Lydia both laughed.

"Really, Lacey, you look great," Allison assured her.

"Just relax," Lydia told her. "When Stiles sees you it'll all be worth it."

Lacey's nearly ate it as she descended the last stair. "What makes you think I care what Stiles thinks?" she spluttered, her face flushing.

"Oh, please," Lydia laughed.

"That's it, I'm changing," Lacey decided, turning for the stairs.

"Even if you could somehow climb back up those stairs, you're out of luck. I think I heard a car pull up."

Lacey looked horrified.

Allison linked her arm in Lacey's. "It's okay, Lacey," she cooed. "Deep breaths and focus on your feet."

Lacey nodded. "Right."

Lydia opened the front door, then paused. "You two go ahead, I forgot something upstairs." She turned and hurried back up at an impressive speed, considering her heels were higher than both Lacey's and Allison's.

"Don't let Lydia make you nervous," Allison encouraged as she and Lacey walked arm in arm down Lydia's long driveway. "If you like Stiles, you have nothing to worry about."

Lacey smiled. "Thanks."

"Holy hell," Stiles said as he watched Allison and Lacey approach his Jeep. "Ho-ly hell."

"Whoa boy." Scott put a placating hand on Stiles' shoulder. He smiled as if he were enjoying every second of it. "She looks good, though, doesn't she?"

Stiles messed with is collar and smoothed his hair. "Good is an understatement. Now shut up, she can probably already hear us.

"And I don't know what you were talking about earlier, Scott. Those two look like peas in a freaking pod," Stiles observed.

"You're right," Scott agreed happily.

"But where's Lydia? That's the real question," Stiles said.

"Buried in a shallow grave," Lacey called from ten feet away.

Scott rolled down his window as they strode up alongside the car. "What?"

"You heard me," Lacey told him.

Scott let himself crack a smile. "That bad, huh?"

"Horrible," Lacey quipped.

Allison surprised him by speaking. "Don't worry, Scott. We took the high road." Scott looked at Allison carefully, and saw that this was her olive branch.

"I knew you would," he replied, accepting her truce.

"Well, thank god," Stiles chimed in. "'Cause I doubt you would have fit in Scott's dress."

They all laughed. Lacey stole an adoring look at Stiles, which he returned without her notice only moments later.

"What's so funny?" Lydia demanded as she strutted up.

They all waved it off, still chuckling.

"Nothing," Stiles assured her.

"Well, then why are we all just standing here?" she asked. "Let's get this party started."

The girls climbed into the back seat as Stiles put the Jeep in reverse.

As they backed out of the driveway, Lacey noticed the bag that Lydia had gotten from upstairs.

"What did you need from upstairs, anyway?" she asked.

Lydia smiled devilishly and reached into the bag. From it, she withdrew a full bottle of tequila and four shot glasses.

[Side Note: I know that in the show werewolves are incapable of getting drunk, but let's just pretend they can for the sake of this fic. I promise it'll keep things interesting ;)]

"Oh boy," Stiles said as he caught sight of the bottle in the rear view mirror.

"Now it's a party, I guess," Scott stated.

"Lydia, come on. It's a school night," Allison reminded her.

"Is it? Or is it the night five friends are going to have a really good time?"

"That's got my vote," Lacey piped up.

"Scott? Allison? Stiles?" Lydia questioned, eyebrows raised.

"I'm good," Stiles told her. "I gotta drive, ya know."

"Good boy," Lydia praised him. She looked expectantly at Scott and Allison. "You two don't have to drive, do you?"

Allison rolled her eyes. "Fine."

All of them looked at Scott.

"What are you looking at me for? Start pouring."

Lydia doled out four shots and Scott cranked the music.

"All right." Lydia held up her glass. "To new friends!"

They all clinked their shot glasses and threw the tequila back, scrunching up their faces at the taste.

By the time they got to the party, they were all four shots in. Stiles parked the car and opened the back door for the girls.

"Such a gentleman," Lydia giggled as she got out of the car.

"I guess chivalry isn't dead, after all," Allison continued.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm a dreamboat, okay?" Stiles replied, smile spread across his face.

"Really, Stiles, thanks for driving," Lacey said as she exited the car. The tequila had definitely taken the edge off. And how was it that she was somehow better at walking in her heels while tipsy?

"Anytime," Stiles told her. He closed the door behind her and offered her his arm. Together, they walked up the street toward Heather's house.

Stiles looked around as they grew nearer.

"What's up, man?" Scott asked, noticing Stiles' confusion.

"I know Heather said this was going to be big, but I think word definitely got out," Stiles observed, gesturing to all the cars lining the street.

"So it's cool that I invited Isaac, then?" Scott asked.

"When did you invite Isaac?" Stiles questioned.

"He texted me on the way over and I told him he should stop by," Scott told him.

"Well, what's one more person, I guess," Stiles replied. "I just hope I can find Heather in all this."

They had arrived at the driveway.

"One more shot for luck?" Lydia asked, wielding the bottle.

Everyone obliged, taking their fifth shot without batting an eye.

As soon as Stiles opened the door, their group was in a mass of bodies, all holding red cups and moving to the beat of a song with thumping bass.

"Whoa," was all Lacey could say.

"Have you ever been to a party?" Stiles asked loudly over the music.

"Yeah," Lacey responded with a dull yell. "But nothing like this." She leaned over to Lydia. "You were right Lydia. There's not a single girl in pants here."

"Told you," she replied, eyes scanning the room.

"Oh! There's Heather," Stiles exclaimed, cutting through the crowd in a beeline to the kitchen. The rest of the group had no choice but to follow.

"Heather!" Stiles called as they approached.

A blonde girl in a birthday crown turned at the sound of her name. "Stiles!" she practically screamed upon seeing him. As he went in for a hug, she pressed her mouth so fervently against his that he nearly fell over.

He pulled back and detached himself from her. "Hey!" he greeted, holding her at arm's length. "Happy birthday!"

"Thanks! So good to see you, Stiles," she said, moving closer.

"You know Scott, right?" Stiles tried to diffuse the tension.

Scott waved meekly from behind Stiles.

"No," Heather replied blatantly, looking at Scott.

"Okay, well," Stiles began, "these are my friends. Lydia, Allison, Lacey, and Sco––"

"Cool, nice to meet all of you," Heather cut him off. She looked ravenously at Stiles. "Stiles, come with me."

Before he could even reply, she was taking his hand and dragging him through the crowd.

Stiles looked back at his friends. "You guys will be okay, right?" he yelled as he was escorted away.

Scott gave him a thumb's up. The girls smiled.

"Well, that was sufficiently awkward," Lydia stated.

Allison stole a covert glance at Lacey, who was doing a flawless job of hiding her crushing disappointment. She leaned in and whispered, "He didn't really seem into it…"

Lacey straightened up. "Oh… I don't care," Lacey tried. "I'm just here to have a good time with my friends."

"All right, then let's find the alcohol," Lydia proposed.

"I'll grab us some beers," Scott told them. "You girls can go wait outside."

"Thanks, Scott," Allison replied. "Let's go, Lacey, Lydia."

The three girls shoved through the crowd until they reached a pair of glass double doors that had been left open for the party. They opened up onto a grand concrete patio that surrounded a pool.

"I thought I smelled chlorine," Lacey said as they found a spot among the other partygoers. "How are you girls feeling?"

"Drunk!" Lydia exclaimed.

"Yeah, me too," Allison giggled.

"Good," Lacey told them, laughing. "Me three!"

"There are a lot of cute guys here," Lydia observed, watching a pack of hunks walk past them.

"You're into the muscly types, aren't you, Lydia?" Lacey joked.

"Speaking of muscles," Allison said, nodding to the corner of the yard.

"Oh no," Lacey replied exasperatedly.

"Oh, yes," Lydia practically drooled.

It was the twins.


	9. Chapter 9

"I don't want one," Lacey told her. "I don't wanna get anywhere near one."

"Why not?" Allison asked. "Lacey, what's the big deal?"

Lacey knew Ethan and Aiden could hear, so she said the only thing she could think of, "I heard they have STD's."

Allison burst out laughing. "What?"

"Ew," Lydia replied, a disgusted expression on her face. "How do you know?"

"A girl in my math class said she has a friend who went to school with them before they transferred," Lacey lied flawlessly. "Yeah, apparently it's herpes."

"What are we talking about?" Scott yelled as he walked up with four red cups.

"Herpes!" Lydia yelled back.

"Wha––"

"Check out who's here," Lacey cut him off. Scott followed her gaze to the back where the twins stood chatting up two girls.

"Well, I do _not_ want herpes," Lydia said with gusto. She waggled her finger in the air.

"Who's got herpes?" a voice asked from behind them. All four of them spun around to see Isaac approaching.

"Twins, apparently," Allison informed him. She slurred her words slightly and, catching her error, covered her mouth and cackled joyfully. Lydia and Lacey followed suit.

"Let's dance!" Lydia squealed.

Lacey hung back with Scott and Isaac as the two other girls rushed the dance floor.

"You're not gonna dance?" Scott asked, taking a gulp of beer.

Lacey took a long pull on hers. "Nah," she answered. "Never been much of a dancer and I'm not that into public embarrassment."

"Ah, come on," Isaac piped up. "Everyone can dance. And if you're actually telling the truth, people will probably just think you're wasted, anyway."

Lacey giggled, sipping down the last of her beer. "One more beer, and they'd be right."

Isaac and Scott both laughed, but all the while Scott was side-eyeing Isaac, making sure he was in control. He seemed to be flirting, but in no way resembling the animal he had been in class a few days before.

"Come on," Isaac beckoned, taking Lacey's hand.

"What do you think you're doing?" Lacey asked.

"Showing you some moves," he answered. "Now, come on."

Lacey threw her free hand in the air dramatically. "Fine, but you asked for it!"

Isaac then attempted to whisk her away to the dance floor. She stopped him, however, a few steps away. She looked back at Scott. "Scott, you come too!" she called.

Scott shook his head. "You two go, I think I'm gonna get a refill." He didn't like the burning feeling he got seeing Isaac with Lacey.

"You sure?" she asked, smiling what looked like alluringly to him.

He was losing control. "Yeah, but I'll be right back."

"Get me one, too!" Lacey told him as she was pulled into the throng of dancers by Isaac.

Scott shook his head violently to clear it. As he did, her scent slowly disappeared from his nostrils. He turned and stumbled through the crowd, in search of the keg.

As Lacey and Isaac joined the dance floor, screeches could be heard from Allison and Lydia.

"We thought you got lost!" Allison yelled over the music.

"No, I just usually hate dancing!" Lacey replied at a dull roar.

"She needed a little convincing!" Isaac told Allison.

Lydia and Allison both noticeably raised their eyebrows at Lacey. Lacey rolled her eyes at them as Isaac started to dance with her.

What started out as innocent swaying became something else entirely; Isaac seemed to be losing his grip on himself. By the time Scott returned with the beers, he had his hands on Lacey's hips and was grinding with her ferociously. Thankfully, before Scott had the chance to act, Lacey detached herself from Isaac, albeit with some protest on his part.

"Scott, thank goodness!" Lacey rushed to his side, grabbing the red cup in her hands. She downed it in three nervous gulps. When Scott gave her an incredulous look, she smiled at him, swaying slightly where she stood. "I guess I was thirsty?"

Scott laughed. "Yeah, I guess so." He looked around. "Where did Allison and Lydia go?"

"They went to get more beer, too," Lacey told him.

"Probably to give you two some privacy," he commented teasingly.

She widened her eyes at him and shoved his shoulder. "Don't you dare."

Scott smiled at her laughingly, but his entire demeanor changed as Isaac approached.

"I thought you were coming right back," Isaac said, disgruntled. His eyes rested on Scott, and it was almost as if the hair on his back were standing up.

Scott instinctively edged himself in front of Lacey, squaring off with Isaac.

"Guys?" Lacey inquired. They both looked at her. "Whatever this is needs to stop."

Scott seemed to snap out of it. "Isaac."

"What?" Isaac spat back.

"I need to talk to you. Now."

Isaac seemed to come back to himself. He cleared his throat. "Yeah. Okay."

They stalked off together.

Suddenly alone, Lacey spun in circles, trying to catch a glimpse of Allison or Lydia.

"Lacey!" she heard from somewhere on the floor. Soon she spied Lydia's red hair next to the pool. She and Allison were swaying to the song that was playing. Lacey joined them.

"Thank goodness we got you away from Isaac," Lydia said.

Lacey nodded fervently.

"Why can't he see you're just trying to have fun with your girls?" Lydia scoffed.

"We got you this, by the way," Allison offered her the second cup in her hand.

"Oh," Lacey said. "Thanks." She took it gratefully and began to sip on it. It was strange how the beer had begun to taste like water.

"Yeah, we figured you'd need it," Allison told her.

"Why's that?" Lacey slurred.

"Seemed like you may be having a rough night with Isaac and…"

"And Stiles going off to goodness knows where with the birthday girl," Lydia completed her thought.

Lacey looked at them thankfully. "That's so nice of you guys. But Isaac's just drunk or something and the Stiles thing…is fine."

Both Allison and Lydia gave her a look of pity.

"Really, guys," Lacey pressed on. "I could care less. It was weird, yeah, but it's not like we're together or anything…"

"But you wanna be," Allison stated.

"We're just friends," Lacey said with resolve. "Friends, that's all."

"Well, just a head's up," Lydia whispered. "Looks like your friend is on his way over."

Lacey followed Lydia's gaze and saw Stiles standing at the mouth of the double doors, scanning the crowd. Before she could wave, she felt someone forcefully grab her hips and start dancing with her from behind. As much as she wished it was some drunken party-goer, her nose didn't lie; it was Aiden.

Allison looked disgusted and Lydia gave her a covert thumbs up as they both continued to sway to the music, pretending nothing had happened. Not wanting to make a scene, Lacey turned her head ever so slightly and said, "I'm sorry, but I really just wanna dance with my friends right now." She tried to delicately pry his hands from her hips.

His grip tightened. "Yeah, well," he answered, his voice low, "I wanna dance with you right now."

In one swift motion, she wrenched his hands away from her body and whipped around to face him. "I don't think you get it," she snapped, "I don't wanna dance with you. Ever."

"How can I stay away when you're looking so sexy tonight?" he continued predatorily. He looked her up and down and reached again for her waist.

She took a step back. "It's pretty easy actually. Just stop groping me and find another girl who will fall for that incredibly dumb line."

Lydia and Allison both sputtered in laughter, but Aiden didn't seem fazed.

"Fiesty," was all he said in return. Before she knew it, his hands were on her again, this time one found its way to the hemline of her dress.

"Hey, man." It was Stiles. "You heard her. And you have about three seconds to get your hands off of her."

"Or what?" Aiden growled, pulling her into him.

She pushed heavily on his chest to create distance between them. Then, without warning, she was hit forcefully from the side. Arms wrapped around her mid-section, lifting her off the concrete. She was airborne for all of two seconds before breaking the pool's surface with a resounding _splash._

She surfaced, to be met by a proudly smiling Scott.

"Wha––"

"It looked like you needed a little help," he replied.

She threw her head back, laughing as other partygoers plunged into the pool. She playfully splashed Scott, and he reciprocated by picking her up and throwing her away from him. She came up and jumped onto his back, pushing on his shoulders in an attempt to submerge his head, both of them laughing all the while.

At that point, it seemed like the entire party had moved into the pool. There were bodies everywhere, jumping, splashing, and still moving to the thump of the bass.

"Lydia's gonna kill me!" Lacey yelled over the din, still perched on Scott's back.

"Dresses dry," Scott replied. "You have to admit, it was a pretty good plan."

"Yeah, for two people as drunk as we are," she laughed.

All of the sudden, both of them were pushed underwater. Lacey detached herself from Scott's shoulders. When she resurfaced, she found Isaac holding Scott underwater.

"Isaac!" she shouted.

Her voice distracted him enough to give Scott a chance to get his head above water and shove Isaac away. Isaac got back on his feet and lunged at Scott again, only to be thrown the other direction.

"Scott! Isaac!" she yelled at the two sparring werewolves. "Stop it!"

When neither of them seemed to listen, she did the only thing she could think to do. She dove underwater and away from them, hoping her scent would dissipate. Lacey came up for air when she reached the steps leading out of the pool. She looked over her shoulder and saw that both Isaac and Scott were standing in waist-deep water, looking dazedly at each other.

The next thing to grab her attention was a gargantuan splash beside her.

"Aiden!" she heard a male voice call.

Luckily, Ethan was in the water before Aiden had a chance to surface. He grabbed his twin in a firm head lock and held him.

"You need to get him a leash!" Lacey spat angrily, sick of constantly feeling like an animal of prey. Ethan shot her a dirty look and a curt nod as she attempted to climb up the pool steps.

She would have expected the water to sober her up, but it seemed as though it had the opposite effect. It was all she could do not to stumble. She wrung her hair out on the deck and tried to shake any excess water out of Lydia's dress. Suddenly something warm and soft found its way onto her shoulders. She recognized the comforting scent instantly, spinning around to see Stiles smiling back at her.

"How was your swim?" he asked.

"Uh… unexpected," she responded honestly.

"I don't know what Scott was thinking," Stiles told her. She thought she heard an edge to his voice.

"He was trying to get me away from Aiden," she assured him.

He nodded, lips pursed.

"Thanks for your flannel," Lacey said gratefully, slipping her arms through the sleeves and pulling it more securely around her shoulders.

"I figured it would help." He shrugged, smiling bashfully. "You know, maybe speed up the drying process."

"I don't know about that," she admitted. She looked down miserably at her dress, then back up at Stiles. "Lydia's gonna kill me."

He grinned. "Somehow I don't think that will be an issue, considering she's swimming too."

Lacey looked over her shoulder and saw Lydia and Allison splashing around with Isaac and Scott. Luckily, the twins were nowhere in sight.

"So, the twins left pretty quick, huh?" Stiles commented, reading her mind.

"Let's not talk about the twins," Lacey requested.

"Okay," Stiles agreed.

A comfortable silence passed between them.

"Oh," Stiles said, "I got you this, too." He reached over to a nearby table and withdrew a red cup.

As much as she didn't want any more beer, Lacey took it, appreciative of the gesture. She began to sip on it.

"You didn't have to do that," she told him.

"I kinda did," he disagreed.

"Why?"

"'Cause I feel like a jerk," he admitted.

"Stiles, you shouldn't feel like a jerk." She hoped he wouldn't noticed that she was slurring her words. "Believe me, you've been the least of my problems tonight."

"Exactly," he said. "I should have been here to keep Scott's head on straight. I thought it may get weird if alcohol was involved, but then Heather…" He trailed off, uncomfortable.

Lacey took a long drink of her beer. "So what's the deal with you and Heather, anyway?" she asked bluntly. "You didn't tell me you two had history." She hoped it didn't come out as accusatory as it felt.

"That's the weird thing," Stiles told her. "We don't. I was seeing a whole new side of Heather tonight."

"Okay," Lacey stopped him. "You don't have to say anymore." She forced an awkward laugh.

"We didn't hook up or anything," Stiles was quick to say.

"You didn't?" Lacey said, astounded.

"No," Stiles assured her. "I mean, she wanted to…"

"But you didn't?" Lacey asked incredulously.

"Not at all."

Lacey smiled.

Stiles couldn't help but smile back. "What?" he questioned.

"Nothing," she said. "I guess it's just nice to know that all guys aren't like the monsters I had to deal with tonight."

"Well, you know I'm no monster. Just your run-of-the-mill guy."

"But even if you're not a monster, you're still a high school boy. So why wouldn't you hook up with a girl who's literally throwing herself at you?"

"Wow," Stiles commented. "This feels a little too much like deja vu." He smiled and ran his hand through his hair.

"What did you tell her?" Lacey asked curiously, more invested in the answer than he'd ever know. "I mean, if you don't mind saying it again."

"I told her I… kinda have my eye on someone else…and I don't wanna mess it up," he admitted honestly.

Lacey wouldn't let herself hope. "You mean Lydia, right?"

"Uh… not exactly…" Stiles could feel his face heating up, all too aware of the fact that she could hear his heartbeat.

She heard it and took it to mean that his heart raced when he thought of Lydia.

"And you told me you were over her," she teased, trying not to let her disappointment show through.

"Well, actually, I––"

"Stiles, right?" came a voice from behind them.

They both turned around. It was one of Heather's friends.

"Yeah," Stiles replied. "Uh… what's up?"

"I was just wondering if you knew where Heather is," she asked. "I saw you two go off together so I figured you might know."

"Last time I saw her we were in the wine cellar," he told her.

Her friend shook her head. "I don't know where that girl's wandered off to. She's too drunk for her own good. Thanks, anyway."

"Yeah, no problem." He smiled at her before she turned to leave.

"I can see how they lost her," Lacey commented. "I mean, look at all these people."

Stiles scanned the crowd, both in the pool and on the deck. "Yeah. I feel kinda bad, though. I think I may have embarrassed her. She kept saying she told all her friends tonight was the night."

"The night for what?" Lacey asked innocently.

Stiles looked uncomfortable. "You know," he tried. In her drunken state, Lacey wasn't picking up on any subtle hints. "Her first time…?"

"Oh!" Lacey exclaimed bashfully. "Yeah, of course." Another long swig of beer.

"Anyway, I just hope I didn't ruin her birthday," Stiles worried.

"Stiles Stilinski, heart breaker," Lacey joked, slurring horribly on his name.

"Yeah, yeah," he replied, grinning. "Maybe they can't find her 'cause she's off with another guy who's even better than I am."

Lacey bit her lip to stop herself from saying what she really wanted to say.

"What's that look for?" Stiles questioned.

In a rush of liquid courage, Lacey said, "I dunno. I was just thinking she'd be hard pressed to find someone better."

Stiles' face turned bright red. "Thanks."

Her eyes darted to the ground, blushing as well. "Anytime."

Just then, the music changed. The obnoxious bass and electronic instrumentals gave way to an acoustic guitar. It was a song that Lacey recognized. She began to move to it unintentionally.

"Thank goodness," Stiles said. "My head was about to explode from all that crap."

"Yeah, this is definitely more my style," Lacey agreed.

She felt the warmth of his hand on hers. When she looked up at him, his mouth was drawn up in a half-smile. "Dance with me?" he asked.

"Of course," Lacey told him. She downed the rest of her beer and set the cup on a table before letting him lead her to the middle of the dance floor.

He put his one hand on her waist, pulling her close. She placed her hand on his shoulder and they began to sway gently together.

"This is nice," she said, feeling the music.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Just wait till I show you my real moves," Stiles told her jokingly.

"I don't think you know what you're getting yourself into," Lacey replied. "I'm not really the best dancer."

"We'll see about that," he said, spinning her away from him.

She gracelessly rolled back into him, colliding slightly with his chest. He caught her with ease and lifted their hands into the air.

"Okay, now spin," he encouraged calmly, turning her in one complete circle before dipping her, during which she nearly lost her footing. It was awkward, to say the least.

"I'm so sorry," she said as they commenced comfortably swaying. "I'm so bad."

"No, you're not," he assured her. "You just have to let me lead."

She smiled shyly at him. "I'm not very good at letting other people lead."

"Yeah, I kinda figured as much." He grinned back. "You're so used to being your own alpha all the time. But you can trust me, I swear."

"Okay," she said.

"Ready?"

She nodded and he began leading her through the same routine they had just done. This time, she let her arms move with him, and she tried not to anticipate the next move. She let herself fall when he dipped her.

He held her there, cradled in his arms for a moment. "How was that?" he asked quietly, gazing down at her.

She could barely breathe. "Fine."

He lifted her back to a standing position and they swayed again.

"How are you so good at this?" she asked.

"Lots of family weddings," he told her. "Lots of single great-aunts."

She laughed and allowed him to lead her through a couple more repetitions of the spinning and dipping.

After he had pulled her upright for the last time, she let her head rest on his shoulder, her eyes feeling heavy. Her mind had grown extremely fuzzy.

"Stiles?" she whispered into his neck.

"Yeah?" he responded, tucking his head to hear her better.

"I've never said this to anyone else," she prepared him.

"What is it?" he asked, heart accelerating.

She barely noticed. "You're my best friend."

Though, it wasn't the exact words he had wanted to hear, he couldn't help the warm feeling it gave him. He squeezed her hand to let her know he had heard.


	10. Chapter 10

The song ended abruptly after and Lacey and Stiles were reminded of where they were. Another loud song blared from the speakers and they could hear squeals of laughter and shouting from the other partygoers.

Stiles held her gaze for a moment. Lacey was amazed at how difficult it was to keep her eyes on his.

"You ready to go?" he asked, reading her very muddled mind.

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm so tired."

"Me too," he agreed. "You wait here. I'll go get everyone out of the pool."

Lacey waited where he left her, trying to keep the world from spinning.

"Lacey!" she heard Scott's voice call.

"Yeah?" she replied, walking over to the pool.

"Stiles says you wanna go home," he told her, obviously confused as to why she would ever want to do that.

"Well…"

"She's tired, Scott. We're both tired," Stiles tried to reason with him. "You'd feel tired too if you weren't so drunk."

Allison, Lydia, and Isaac laughed heartily. Lacey couldn't help but crack a smile. Stiles stood on the edge of the pool grinning good-naturedly at Scott, obviously proud of himself.

Scott let it roll off his back. "Come swimming again!" he urged.

"No way," Lacey answered. "I just got warm."

"Scott, we're not gonna go swimming," Stiles explained. "Let's go, bro!"

"Fine," Scott sighed. He followed Allison, Lydia, and Isaac up the steps and onto dry land. He shook his body like a dog to expel excess water.

Lacey walked up to Allison and Lydia. They both smiled at her expectantly. "What?" Lacey asked dumbly.

"We saw you two dancing," Allison whispered.

Lacey gave her a look and glanced back to make sure Stiles wasn't listening. Luckily, he was too preoccupied with a talkative, drunk Scott to notice.

She couldn't help but return their smiles. "It was nothing…"

"It was so something," Lydia hissed. "He was holding you so close."

"Okay, maybe it was something," Lacey admitted. "But I don't know. I'm horrible with this stuff."

"We can teach you," Lydia assured her, patting her shoulder. "Just like with the make-up and the wardrobe."

"Speaking of which…" Lacey looked down at her damp clothes. "Sorry about your dress and your shoes."

Lydia waved it away. "I've already worn that dress twice, anyway."

Allison shook her head.

"Besides, those shoes make me look like a stripper when I wear them," Lydia commented.

"Gee, thanks," Lacey sassed. "Of course you give me the stripper shoes."

"I don't even wanna know what you three are talking about over there," Stiles told them. "I just don't even wanna go there."

All three girls giggled.

"I kinda wanna know," Scott said, scampering up to them.

"We were just talking about my shoes," Lacey told him.

"Why, do your feet hurt?" Scott asked.

"You don't even know," Lacey admitted.

Before she knew it, she was off her feet and in Scott's arms.

"Whoa," was all she could say at first. Her head was spinning like a top. She slowly came to. "What are you doing?" she inquired curiously.

"Carrying you to the car," Scott said, as if it were obvious.

"Why?"

"'Cause you said your feet hurt," he replied.

"Oh yeah," Lacey said, shaking her head vigorously to clear it. Just more spins.

"Let's go!" Scott charged toward the open double doors.

Lacey laughed. "You better not be wasted enough to drop me!"

"No promises at this point," Scott laughed.

He breezed out the front door and almost made it down the front steps, but his foot caught on the bottom. They were both flung through the air and luckily landed on the grass. Lacey sprawled out on her belly and Scott was close behind, landing right on top of her.

Both were seated on the grass, in a fit of laughter when the others caught up.

"Oh my god." Lydia shook her head and smiled.

"I knew carrying was a bad idea," Stiles said, crossing his arms.

"Lydia, I'm taking off these damn shoes," Lacey proclaimed, leaning forward to unclasp them. She amazed herself with her ability to handle such tiny buckles. Taking both shoes in one hand, she accepted Stiles' outstretched hand. He pulled her to her feet a little too quickly and she lost her balance, falling into him.

"Sorry," she was quick to say, regaining her balance.

Stiles smiled goofily at her. "It's all right. Are you all right?"

She knew what he meant. "Yeah, of course. Just a head rush."

"Okay," Stiles let it go. But he was still skeptical; she could tell by the way he hovered as they walked down the remainder of the driveway.

They all said good-bye to Isaac when they got into the street and watched him pedal away on his bike.

"So, successful night?" Lydia questioned.

Everyone responded in the affirmative.

"Good thing I brought that tequila, then," she chirped.

"I'll…get back to you on that one," Allison joked.

"Yeah, wait until tomorrow," Lacey agreed.

"Well," Scott proclaimed, "It made my night, for sure." He threw an arm around Lacey and walked them in the direction of the car.

"Sorry about the whole falling and dropping you thing," Scott told her.

Lacey just giggled in response.

Stiles watched them carry on, angry with himself for being angry. Scott was his best friend and he knew if he weren't drunk, he wouldn't be acting this way. This didn't mean anything. But still, there was a white hot pit of jealousy in Stiles' stomach.

By the time they got to the car, Stiles was feeling rather stormy. He unlocked the doors and slid into the driver's seat, not speaking.

"Shotgun!" Lacey hollered. She ducked under Scott's arm and made a break for the door.

"Yeah, right!" Scott protested, chasing after her. He caught her right as she put her hand on the handle, lifting her up by her mid-section. He swung her around so that he was in position to get in the front seat. She jumped onto his back, grabbing his arms at the shoulders and holding them. Try as he might, he couldn't extend his arms far enough to reach the handle.

"Dammit," he huffed, trying to free his arms.

"Just give up, the seat's mine," Lacey ordered.

At that moment, Scott could see Stiles sitting in the driver's seat, watching them humorlessly.

"Okay, fine." Scott gave up the fight and very obediently got into the back seat.

Lacey climbed into the passenger seat and shot Stiles a smile. He returned it momentarily and turned the car on.

Allison and Lydia were out as soon as the car started rolling, leaning on each other for support. Scott kept up the conversation enough for all three of them, spewing drunken nonsense throughout the ride.

Once Lacey was able to tune him out, she tuned into Stiles. He was staring straight ahead, rigid. She could see him clenching and unclenching his jaw and heard his heart beating loudly. She couldn't tell if he was just tired and irritated by Scott's chatter, or if something was actually the case, she instinctually extended a hand and gently placed it on his forearm, which was resting on the center console.

Instantly, she felt him relax and heard his heartbeat return to a normal volume. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him look at her. She turned her head to return his look. She had the strongest urge to kiss him then, but all the confidence Allison and Lydia had instilled in her seemed to evaporate in that very second. No matter what they said, she was still terrified that he wouldn't kiss her back. Besides, she wouldn't know which one of him to kiss, considering she was seeing double.

His eyes returned to the road and hers found her lap. She realized that Scott had stopped talking. She swiveled around in her seat to look. Scott was still wide awake, staring out the window silently. He met her gaze and gave her a little half smile, nodding almost undetectably at her hand on Stiles' arm. She shrugged ever so slightly, cracking a smile and turning back around. She was glad Scott was returning to his normal self.

The three of them shared the much needed quiet until Stiles arrived back at Lydia's house.

"Lydia, Allison," Stiles said, putting the car in park. He reached into the back and gave Lydia's knee a shake.

She came to, startled.

"We're at your house," he told her quietly.

"Oh, right," Lydia spluttered. "Of course."

She shook Allison awake and together they got out of the car, saying their thank you's. Then, they walked up the drive together. Stiles made sure not to leave until he saw both girls safely walk through the front door.

"Don't you fall asleep on me, Scott," he said, noticing Scott's heavy eyelids.

Scott laughed quietly. "You better drive fast or I'll be out before we get to my house."

When they got there, Scott was surprisingly still awake. He hopped out of the car and came to Lacey's window. She rolled it down for him.

"Thanks, Stiles," Scott said genuinely. "Next time we go to a party, I'll drive."

"Thanks, man," Stiles replied.

"And Lacey," Scott continued. "I'm sure you'll hear a lot more of this from me tomorrow, but I'm sorry for being a drunk idiot."

She smiled. "Believe me, you weren't that bad. We just have to figure out this whole scent thing."

"Yeah, I guess." Scott shrugged. "Good night, guys."

"Night, Scott," Stiles said. He reached across the car so he and Scott could do their hand shake.

"See ya tomorrow," Lacey called as he walked to his front door. He waved before closing the door behind him.

Stiles and Lacey were silent as they drove to Lacey's house, both too tired to make conversation. Ten minutes later when they pulled up to the curb outside her house, it was all Lacey could do to open the door. Her head was still swimming and she was exhausted.

"Thank you so much, Stiles." She leaned over to give him a hug.

When they drew back, she swore she was seeing stars.

"Do you want me to walk you to your door?" Stiles asked hopefully.

Lacey waved him off, not wanting to burden him. "No, I got it." She placed a wobbly foot on the curb and propelled herself into a standing position. She hadn't taken two steps across the lawn when she tripped and fell.

Stiles laughed to himself as he flung his door open and jogged over to the passenger side of the jeep. When he got to her, she was in a fit of laughter.

"So I'm guessing you don't got it?" he asked jokingly.

"I guess not," she admitted. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"What is it?" he asked.

"I don't think I've ever been this drunk before." She shook with laughter, feeling the relief of finally telling him.

Once she had settled, he offered her his hand and pulled her to her feet. He held her waist once she was upright, helping her balance.

"I'll tell you what," he began, leaving her on the lawn while he locked up his jeep, "I'm gonna make sure you get to your door safely."

"Sounds good," she said.

He returned to her. "Ready?" he asked.

"For what?"

"For this," he said as he lifted her into his arms.

She laced her arms around his neck, feeling his strength as he made his way to the front door.

"Key?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah," she remembered, reaching into her bra and withdrawing a single key.

Stiles tried not to stare.

Lacey unlocked the front door and twisted the knob from where she lay in his arms and he pushed it open with his foot.

As he stepped inside, he was immediately confronted with a flight of stairs on his left.

"Let me guess," he said. "Your room's upstairs?"

She nodded and laughed loudly.

"Shhhh," he urged. "Isn't your roommate asleep?"

"No, she's not home," Lacey told him. "She works night shifts at the hospital."

He nodded. "All right, I guess I'm doing the stairs then." She closed the door behind them as he embarked on his uphill journey.

"Stiles, I honestly can't thank you enough," she told him. "I probably would have slept on the couch if it wasn't for you."

He got to the top. "No problem at all," he puffed. He walked through the open door to her room, which was the only room on the top floor, and set her gently down on the bed. He flopped down next to her exhaustedly.

They lay there for a moment, taking in each other's closeness.

"I'm gonna go get you some water," Stiles told her, cutting the moment short.

"Okay," she said. "I'm going to get out of this freaking dress."

Stiles got up and walked to the door. Once she heard his footsteps on the stairs, she dared to heave herself up. Her head was so fuzzy it was difficult for her to walk the four steps it took to get to the bathroom. She found her pajamas hanging on the back of the bathroom door and undressed completely. She clumsily put them on.

Stiles had just set two full glasses of water down on her nightstand when she emerged, clad in her pajamas.

"Thanks," she said.

"Yeah, I got two 'cause I figured you may need it," Stiles replied.

Then they were silent. They stood on opposite sides of her room, simply looking at each other.

Stiles put his hands in his pockets. "Well, I should probably go. You know, let you sleep and stuff…" He backed reluctantly toward the doorway, determined not to let his eyes leave hers until they had to.

"Okay," she said.

As he turned to walk down the stairs, some part of her panicked. She didn't want him to leave. "Wait, Stiles?"

He whipped around quickly, his eyes finding her shape in the darkness of her room. "Yeah?"

"Can you stay?" she whispered.

"Yeah…" He took a moment to collect himself. "Yeah, of course I can."

She was suddenly flustered, realizing what she had let herself say.

"I mean, if you want to go home, you don't have to––"

"I don't want to go home," Stiles admitted to her.

His confidence propelled her. "I know I act tough, and I know I can take care of myself…I mean, I never feel unsafe or anything, but…when Celeste works at night… I don't know…"

"I get the same feeling when my dad works late," Stiles told her softly. "Sometimes you just want someone there."

"Not just someone," she said boldly. "You, Stiles."

Before he knew when he was doing, he was crossing the room and taking her face in his hands. He leaned in and kissed her with everything he had.

They stood there for a moment, locked in a state of pure bliss.

Then, he detached his lips from hers and leaned back, letting his hands drop away from her face. She smiled up at him slightly, then dropped her gaze to the floor, touching her lips. Three agonizing seconds ticked by.

Just as he was cursing himself for his stupidity and readying himself to give the apology of a lifetime, her eyes met his. She wrapped her arms securely around his neck and pulled his face to hers. She kissed him more fervently than he had kissed her, pressing her body tightly against his and running her hand through the back of his hair. His hands found her hips and hungrily made their way up and down her torso.

As quickly as it had begun, it was done. They pulled away from each other ever so slightly, bodies still intertwined. She laughed ecstatically, throwing her head back to look him in the eyes. He smiled giddily and leaned down for one more elongated peck.

"Should we go to bed?" she uttered.

"I guess we should," he returned quietly, still out of breath.

She stood at her nightstand, chugging water, while he removed his T-shirt and jeans. Lacey climbed into bed and he slid in next to her. She cozied up to him, putting her head on his bare chest. He wrapped an arm securely around her. She closed her eyes and sighed blissfully. They both fell asleep instantly, tired from a long night.

**(So... Kind of a big chapter! I really wanna know what you guys think! Please, please comment and let me know!)**


	11. Chapter 11

Stiles awoke to the blaring of his phone alarm. He rolled over, expecting to see her next to him, but she was gone. Slightly disappointed, scooted to the edge of the bed and grabbed his phone. After switching the alarm off, he noticed a text from his dad:

_Did you spend the night at Scott's?_

Thankfully, he had received it only ten minutes before. He typed back a quick reply:

_Yup. Just got up for school. Sry i forgot to tell u_

He set his phone down with a sense of relief. He couldn't believe that he had forgot to tell his dad. Well, actually, he could believe it. It hadn't exactly been the first thing on his mind last night.

Stiles smiled to himself, touching his lips absent-mindedly. He wondered why she hadn't been in bed when he awoke; it worried him. He was about to get up and investigate when he heard feet padding up the stairs.

She swung the door open, beaming and already dressed for school. She took a running leap, landing with a thud on the end of the bed.

"Good morning," she greeted him.

He sat up in bed. "Morning," he replied.

"I heard the alarm, but I was just coming up to make sure you didn't fall back asleep," she told him.

"Nah, I'm up," Stiles said, rubbing his eyes. "Barely. What time did you wake up, anyway?"

"About an hour ago, actually," Lacey informed him. She rolled herself off the bed and stood.

Stiles shook his head, smiling. "Aren't you even a little bit hungover?"

"I guess not." She shrugged. "Should I be?"

"I mean…yeah," Stiles laughed.

"Was I that bad?" Lacey asked. "I didn't throw up, did I?"

Stiles began to reply, but his train of thought came to a screeching halt as something horrible occurred to him. "Wait, do you not remember anything from last night?"

Lacey looked ashamed. "I remember most of it," she assured him. "I remember us dancing…but then it all kinda just went black. And then I woke up this morning."

Stiles felt like someone had punched a hole through his stomach.

The look on his face worried her. "You're freaking me out. How much longer did we stay at the party?"

"Uh… we left pretty soon after that. You didn't miss much."

"Did I do something stupid?" she asked.

Stiles was at a loss for words.

"Stiles, did I?"

"No you didn't…"

"Then why the face?" Lacey asked, meeting his eyes.

"You did throw up, actually," Stiles lied. He tried his best to keep his heart steady; apparently it worked.

"Oh, God." Lacey covered her face with her hand.

"Yeah…that's why I stayed over," he lied again, even though it killed him inside a little bit. "I, uh, just wanted to make sure you were all right."

"I'm really sorry you had to do that," Lacey apologized.

"I didn't have to," Stiles assured her. "I just figured better safe than sorry."

She sighed, taking her hand from her face. "I'm really glad I made you breakfast, then."

"You made me breakfast?" Stiles asked, brightening a little.

"Yeah, I did. I had a whole hour before you would be up, so I got a little creative. So now it's a thank you breakfast."

"I'm not gonna say no to free food," he admitted.

She laughed. "Good. I'm gonna go down and put the finishing touches on. Just come down when you're ready."

Once she had left the room, Stiles got out of bed and shrugged into the clothes he had worn the night before. He wanted desperately to call Scott and tell him everything, but he knew Lacey would hear. He went to the bed and picked up his phone to send Scott a text.

"So you kissed her?" Scott asked exuberantly after English class. Lacey had gone off with Allison and Lydia, finally giving Stiles the opportunity to talk to him privately.

"I mean…"

"That's what your text said this morning!" Scott responded, almost accusingly.

"My text also said I'll said I'll explain later," Stiles reminded him.

"So it went farther then?" Scott pressed. "Don't think I haven't noticed that you're wearing yesterday's clothes." He raised his eyebrows.

"Thank God it didn't go any further," Stiles said humorlessly. He leaned back against a locker, stressed.

"What do you mean? Don't tell me you're not into her anymore," Scott replied. "Actually you can't even tell me that because I know you still are."

"It's just so screwed up now," Stiles moped, running a rough hand through his hair.

"Can you just tell me what happened already?" Scott demanded.

Stiles took a deep breath. "Well, I kissed her," he began.

"Yeah, I know that," Scott told him. "But what then? What's the big problem?"

"Could you just…" Stiles begged, giving Scott a look.

"Okay, I'll shut up."

"So, I kissed her and she kissed me back. Like, really kissed me back." Stiles couldn't help the fact that the corners of his mouth turned up slightly at the thought of it. It didn't take long for his cloudy demeanor to come back, considering what he had to say next. "But she doesn't remember a thing."

"No way," Scott breathed. "Are you sure?"

"Pretty damn sure, actually," Stiles told him. "She totally blacked out. The last thing she remembers is us dancing."

"No," was all Scott could say, his mouth slightly ajar.

"Yeah," Stiles replied hopelessly. "I finally muster up the stupid courage to kiss her and now it's just a huge freaking mess."

Scott mulled this over for a second. "Well, I mean, she kissed you back, right?"

"Yeah, I guess," Stiles answered. "But she was drunk out of her mind."

"Then you're golden, man," Scott assured him.

"Scott, are you even listening to a word I'm saying? How many brain cells did that tequila kill?"

"Dude, think about it," Scott told him, "People are always more honest when they're drunk."

"People also make stupid decisions when they're drunk," Stiles countered. "What if it was just some stupid drunken mistake?"

"Stiles, I know this is the opposite of what you wanna hear, but you'll never know unless you just talk to her about it," Scott reasoned.

"Yeah, right," Stiles spluttered. "Can you imagine how awkward that conversation would be?"

"What's the worst thing that could happen?" Scott asked.

"You're serious?" Stiles questioned. "Well, let's see…She could think I took advantage of her. Boom, friendship over. She could laugh in my face and ask how I could believe she'd ever kiss me sober––"

"Good thing you're not jumping to conclusions or anything," Scott joked. "I would bet my entire college fund that she wouldn't say any of those things. I don't understand why telling her is such a bad idea."

Stiles grew quiet. "Scott… what if she does remember? What if she's just pretending she doesn't so that she doesn't have to face the fact that she made a stupid drunk mistake by kissing me."

Scott just shook his head.

"Come on, that's a legitimate fear and you know it," Stiles said, exasperated.

"You're really not good at this whole girl thing, are you?"

"Of course I'm not! That's why I'm freaking out over here!" Stiles exclaimed.

"Look, I'm 99.9% sure that she has feelings for you too," Scott told him. "I think it would speed things up if you just came out with this now."

"Speed things up?"

"You could be dating her tomorrow," Scott explained. "Trust me on this."

"I'm not you, Scott," Stiles said. "I don't have the same wolfy over-confidence that you do. I think I'll stick to hiding behind my sarcasm, thank you very much."

"Wolfy over-confidence?" Scott raised his eyebrows. "That's a new one."

"Yeah, I just kinda said it…but I think it works," Stiles joked.

"So, you're not gonna talk to her?" Scott checked.

"No," Stiles said firmly. "There are too many things that could go wrong."

Scott sighed. "All right, man. Suit yourself."

(Later on with the girls.)

Later that day, Allison, Lydia, and Lacey were finally alone after their history class let out. Lydia seized the opportunity. "So…why exactly is Stiles still wearing his gray T-shirt and khakis?"

Lacey looked like a deer in the headlights.

Allison's face broke into a huge smile. "I didn't even notice that!" she exclaimed. "Lacey…?"

"Okay, he slept over last night," she admitted to them.

"Are we talking adult sleep over?" Lydia mused.

"No, definitely not," Lacey told her. "I threw up so he stayed over to keep an eye on me."

"Ouch," Lydia cringed. "Typical Stiles fashion, though."

"Yeah, I wouldn't worry about it," Allison reassured her. "Stiles is hardly the type to hold anything like that against you."

"Let's hope not," Lacey replied miserably. She bit her lip. "Guys, I was really drunk though…"

"And you're afraid you spilled your guts," Lydia stated.

Lacey nodded. "If I don't remember throwing up, what else could I have done?"

"Did you wake up with all your clothes on?" Allison felt inclined to ask.

"Yes, of course I did!" Lacey assured her.

"Allison, let's give Stiles some credit, here," Lydia said. "He would never do anything like that if he knew Lacey was fall-on-her-ass drunk."

"I felt like I should ask," Allison defended herself. "Are you just afraid you told him that you like him?"

Lacey nodded fervently. "I could have said anything."

"Well, thank goodness drunk Lacey isn't a total wuss," Lydia said, giving Lacey a sassy look.

"What?" Lacey demanded.

Allison grinned. "Drunk you may have done sober you a favor."

Lacey rolled her eyes. "Guys, you're missing the point."

"I'm sorry, what point are we missing again?" Lydia questioned. "I think it would be great if one of you just admitted it."

"If I did say anything, he's not exactly jumping at the chance," Lacey explained. "If he likes me, why wouldn't he have told me this morning?"

"Maybe he's afraid it was just drunk you saying it," Allison offered. "He could be scared that you don't actually feel that way about him."

"Talk to him," Lydia commanded.

"No way," Lacey refused. "I've only known him for five days and I've already embarrassed myself enough for a lifetime."

"Lacey, come on––"

"No. 100% off the table."

Allison and Lydia both offered looks of surrender.

Lacey's phone vibrated then. She looked down to see Deaton's number displayed across the screen. "One sec, guys. It's my boss."

When she stepped away to take the call, Lydia's eyes instantly flashed to Allison's.

"I'm gonna talk to Stiles," Lydia resolved.

"Why would you do that?" Allison asked skeptically.

"I just wanna make sure nothing…bad…happened," Lydia explained. "I think we can expect that neither of them are going to say a word about it to each other, so someone's gotta do something."

Allison nodded in reluctant agreement. "What do you mean something bad?"

"I mean, what if they had sex or something? Stiles would feel terrible about that, and maybe that's why he didn't tell her the truth."

"And you think he'd tell you?" Allison asked.

"I don't know, maybe," Lydia answered, exasperated. "I'm just trying to make sure Lacey isn't being kept from something she absolutely needs to know."

"But you're not going to meddle, are you?" Allison made certain.

"No," Lydia replied.

Allison gave her a look.

"I'm serious," Lydia assured her. "Between you and me, I wish one of them would just pluck up the damn courage and do it already. But I also don't want them to have the easy way out."

"The easy way out?" Allison inquired.

"Stiles is seventeen now, Allison," Lydia said, a smile on her lips. "It's about time he learned how to tell a girl he like-likes her."

"I guess you would know," Allison laughed.

"Damn right, I would know," Lydia replied. "I've rejected Stiles since the third grade and I want to see him grow a pair and get the girl for once in his life."

"That's oddly sweet, Lydia," Allison told her.

"Don't spread that around." Lydia laughed, shaking her head.

At that point, Lacey rejoined the two of them.

"What did Deaton want?" Allison asked.

"He called to see if I could work after school today. I guess he wants me to shadow Scott or something to learn the ropes."

"That'll probably be good," Lydia told her. "It'll get your mind off of things."

"That's all I want," Lacey admitted just as the warning bell sounded. "Well, I should get to econ. Where are you two headed?"

"Free period in the library," Allison told her. "We need to do some research."

"On what?" Lacey questioned.

"Allison's convinced that some crazy lady put the marks of an ancient symbol on our wrists, so we're going to investigate," Lydia told her.

"So, typical afternoon?" Lacey asked, chuckling lightly. "I'll see ya later," she said as she walked down the hall toward Coach's classroom.

She entered the room and saw that Scott and Stiles had saved her a seat.

As she sat down, Coach launched into a lecture about risk and reward. He set up a game on the floor involving a cup and a quarter. Scott declined to play, saying the calculated risk was not worth the reward.

While Danny was at the front of the classroom attempting the game, Lacey leaned forward to whisper in Stiles' ear. "Is it just me, or were they playing this game at the party last night?"

Stiles turned his head to answer, "Yeah, it's called quarters. Usually, the risk is that you have to drink if you miss."

"Oh," Lacey said.

"That would probably make this lecture much more interesting," Stiles joked.

Lacey laughed.

"Stilinski!" Coach hollered from the front of the room.

"Uh… yeah, Coach?" Stiles knew he was caught.

"Instead of trying your hand at making Miss McCarter laugh, why don't you come up here and give my game a try?"

"You see, I've measured the risk and––"

"No choice, Stilinski. Get up here!"

"Sorry," Lacey giggled as Stiles got up and walked to the front of the room like a man to the gallows.

"Remember, Stilinski, if you miss, you get to the chance to write me an essay."

"Yeah, yeah," Stiles mumbled, taking the quarter from him.

As Stiles was lining up to make his toss, the door opened and in stepped Sheriff Stilinski.

"Oh thank God," Lacey and Scott heard Stiles mutter under his breath.

Sheriff Stilinski looked directly at his son. "Stiles, can you come outside with me for a moment?" he asked levelly.

"Um, yeah," Stiles replied. He dropped the quarter in a very disappointed-looking Coach's hand and followed his dad out of the room.

Lacey and Scott exchanged a confused look. They both listened in.

"What's up, dad?" Stiles asked.

"It's about Heather," his Sheriff Stilinski began. "She's been missing since last night."

"Wha––"

"And her friends are reporting that you were the last one to see her at her birthday party," he explained.

"What do you mean missing?" Stiles demanded quietly.

"Her parents filed a missing person report this morning."

"Dad, they don't think I have anything to do with––?"

"No, of course not," Sheriff Stilinski assured him. "They've known you since you were practically in diapers. They're just following whatever leads they can."

"I wish I could tell you more," Stiles said. "The last time I saw her was when we were talking in the wine cellar…"

"It's okay, son." Scott and Lacey heard the brush of fabric on skin that indicated he was putting a hand on his son's shoulder. "We'll find her."

"Do you need any help?" Stiles pressed.

"No, we'll take it from here," the sheriff replied sternly. "You just go back to econ."

Stiles walked back into the room, looking dazed. Luckily, there were only ten minutes left in class. The three of them sat motionless, not talking until the final bell rang and school was out. Then, they were first to the door.

"I assume you heard," Stiles said without looking at either of them.

"Yeah," Scott answered.

"What would they want with Heather?" Stiles demanded of no one in particular.

"Who?" Lacey asked.

"The alpha pack," Scott told her.

"It's gotta be them," Stiles was certain. "We just have to figure out why."

"We will," Scott assured him.

"Guys, we _have _to find her," Stiles stressed. He clutched at his hair agitatedly. "Our moms were best friends since we were three. We took freaking bubble baths together." He sounded out of breath and Lacey could hear his heart beating out of his chest.

"Scott, what do we need to do to figure out where the alpha pack is?" Lacey questioned.

"We need Isaac to remember," he told her.

"And how do we do that?" Stiles asked, panicked. "If Peter and Derek couldn't do it, then who?"

"Deaton," Scott told him calmly. "I'd bet anything Deaton would know."

Lacey reached a hand out to Stiles' shoulder, stopping him from walking. She stepped around so that she could look at him straight on. She held his gaze firmly in hers, a hand on each of his shoulders. He looked mad with worry.

"Stiles, take a deep breath," she instructed.

"I know, I know, I need to calm down, I just––"

"Dude. Deep breath," Scott echoed at his back. He put a hand on his shoulder as well.

Stiles drew in a breath, holding it for a second before letting it out in a gust.

"Stiles, you're gonna find her," Lacey reassured him. "We're gonna find her."

**Hey guys, I'd really like some feedback on this one, too. I wanna know what you guys like, what you don't, and just let me know how I'm doing!**


	12. Chapter 12

"Have you heard back from Isaac?" Lacey asked as she took her cycling helmet off in the parking lot of Deaton's veterinary clinic. It had been decided that she and Scott would ride over to Deaton's together, while Stiles went to Derek's to try to enlist his help.

"Yeah," Scott replied, looking down at his phone. "He's at Derek's now. So Stiles will bring him over."

"Good," Lacey said. "Do you really think Deaton will know what to do?"

"Well, I guess we're about to find out." He opened the front door for her. "Welcome to your first day of work," he joked.

She smiled nervously.

"Listen, Lacey," Scott said seriously, "I'm not trying to tell you what to do…but if you're trying to stay out of all this werewolf business, now would probably be a good time to step out."

She looked conflicted. "I just wanna help Stiles find his friend."

"I know you do. But believe me, it doesn't stop here. Once they know you're helping us, they're going to target you, too."

"What do I do, Scott?" she asked earnestly. "Helping Stiles is the right thing to do…"

"It may not be the right thing for you," Scott responded.

She bit her lip.

"You're here for your first day of work and that's all it has to be," Scott told her. "No one's gonna blame you if you turn a blind eye to whatever we're gonna do with Isaac."

Lacey looked at him, still extremely torn.

"That's all I'm gonna say now," Scott assured her. "I just wanted to make sure you knew what you may or may not be getting yourself into."

"Thanks," Lacey said genuinely. She smiled at him.

"You ready to get to work?" Scott asked.

"Yep," Lacey chirped, thankful for the subject change.

"I'm glad," Deaton said as he approached from the back. He swung the gate open for them. "From the nature of your conversation, it sounds like we're going to be swamped today."

(With Stiles, Derek, and Isaac)

Stiles drove without speaking, his knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel.

Derek broke the silence. "So, do you know what exactly Deaton thinks he can do to help Isaac remember?" he asked.

"Not sure yet," Stiles admitted. "Scott's probably finding out right now."

"So you don't even know if he can help?" Isaac chimed in from the back seat.

Stiles gripped harder. "Not technically. But I assume he can work some sort of emissary voodoo on your brain."

"That sounds promising," Isaac replied pessimistically.

"Thanks for the encouragement, Isaac," Stiles snapped. "Really, your overwhelming negativity is great right now."

"Stiles, calm down," Derek said.

"You know, I think it's scientifically proven that telling someone to calm down doesn't actually cause them to calm down. You should read every once and awhile."

"Why am I helping you again?" Derek asked sarcastically.

"Because you wanna find out where Erica and Boyd are," Stiles reminded him. "And I'm sorry, I'm just a little stressed, if you couldn't tell."

"I couldn't at all," Isaac sassed.

Stiles glanced frustratedly at him in the rearview mirror.

"It's hard not knowing. But we won't find them if we're running around like chickens with our heads cut off," Derek told him.

Stiles exhaled roughly. "You're right."

"Are you gonna warn him about Lacey?" Isaac inquired.

"What do you mean warn him about Lacey?" Stiles asked defensively.

"What's wrong with Lacey?" Derek asked. "Isn't she your girlfriend?"

"Definitely not my girlfriend," Stiles was quick to say. "And if you say that in front of her, I'll––"

"Stiles, I don't care whether or not she's your girlfriend," Derek told him. "But I would like to know why Isaac feels the need to warn me about her."

"You're gonna care when you catch her scent," Isaac warned him with a smirk. "You're gonna wanna rip Stiles to shreds."

"Again, she's not my girlfriend, so Derek has no need to rip me to shreds," Stiles countered.

"I'll rip both of you to shreds if you don't tell me what the hell you're talking about," Derek threatened.

"Take it away, Isaac," Stiles said. "Since you seem to know much more about it than I do."

"She has this scent," Isaac told him. He looked mesmerized just talking about it. "It makes you crazy."

"Crazy in what way?" Derek demanded.

"Like…sex-crazed?" Isaac looked wildly uncomfortable saying it in front of his alpha.

Derek looked disgusted, yet intrigued. "And it has that effect on all werewolves?"

"As far as we know," Stiles said. "Scott, Isaac, the Twins…well, actually, only one of the twins. We're still not sure why."

"Maybe one of them's gay," Isaac offered.

"That's––" Stiles paused to think about it. "…actually the best theory we've got thus far."

"Well, what is she? Why does she smell like that?" Derek asked curiously.

"We have no idea," Stiles told him. He was glad he could tell the truth about one of his questions, otherwise Derek would be onto him in a second.

"And that doesn't send up a red flag for you?" Derek asked accusingly. "You've told this girl all about us, and you don't even know the first thing about her. Stiles, how could you be so––"

"Easy, easy," Stiles interjected. "Scott and I know all we need to know. We just can't tell you."

Derek furrowed his brow severely. "If you let some stupid crush get us all killed, Stiles, I swear…"

"Hey, Derek?"

"What?"

"Calm down," Stiles mocked.

"I will throw you through this windshield."

"Point made." Stiles nodded quickly.

"So what do you suggest I do when I meet this girl?" Derek questioned, shaking his anger off.

"Plug your nose?" Stiles suggested.

Derek rolled his eyes. "Great. Isaac, any helpful information?"

Isaac shrugged.

"You're serious?" he looked at Stiles.

"Scott can control himself around her," Stiles explained. "But others seem to have trouble with it…"

"Like me?" Isaac asked offendedly. "I can control myself."

"Last night would suggest otherwise…"

"Jealous?" Isaac taunted.

"God, you're literally the worst," Stiles said.

Isaac smiled, pleased with himself.

"Well, I'm not plugging my nose," Derek said. "Maybe I can show you a thing or two about control, Isaac."

"Fine. Have fun making an ass of yourself." Isaac crossed his arms and leaned deeper into the back seat.

Back at the vet clinic, Scott was showing Lacey the art of cleaning out cages.

After Scott had explained the situation to his boss, Deaton had gone about setting up some sort of ice bath for Isaac.

"And then you just put the fresh newspaper in there, and you're done," Scott finished his explanation. "Any questions?"

"No, I think I'm good. This is definitely not a task for the faint of heart," she joked.

"Or someone with an acute sense of smell," Scott added.

"Yet, here you both are," Deaton piped up from the operating room.

Lacey laughed. "What's next?" she asked, looking to Scott.

"Scott, why don't you teach Lacey how to work the front desk?" Deaton suggested. "We'll need someone working up front while we try to tap into Isaac's memory."

"Good idea," Scott agreed.

"Well, I'll be rooting for you guys from up here," Lacey said as Scott finished briefing her on the front desk duties.

"So you've decided to stay out of it, I take it?"

"Does that make me selfish?" she asked.

"Not at all," Scott assured her. "We don't expect you to give up the past ten years for friends you've known for five days."

Lacey smiled tightly. "I guess this is why I've avoided making friends all this time. It just complicates things."

"Why change that now?" Scott asked curiously.

She shrugged. "I guess I finally got tired of being a lone wolf. That's not our nature, really."

"It's hard to be a pack animal who's sworn off ever having a pack."

Lacey smiled sadly. She knew he could hear her heart accelerating.

"Would you tell Stiles that you're thinking of leaving?" Scott asked, knowing exactly what her heartbeat meant.

"He wouldn't know until I'm gone," Lacey told him quietly, meeting his eyes.

Scott nodded.

He was about to say something, but it was then that they heard Stiles' jeep pull into the parking lot.

"Here we go," Scott said.

"Are you nervous?" Lacey asked.

"I just really want this to work," Scott told her. "For Stiles."

They listened to their footsteps approaching, Scott noting two raised heartbeats; Isaac and Derek must have caught wind of Lacey. Stiles opened the door and walked in, carefully watching those behind him. Isaac seemed fine, but Derek looked as though he was concentrating so hard he might burst. There was a moment when Scott thought he was going to have to intervene, but then Derek lifted his head, looking slightly pinched, but otherwise normal.

"Scott." He nodded a greeting.

"Hey, Derek," Scott replied. Scott walked over and swung the gate open. As Derek, Isaac, and Stiles shuffled in, Scott couldn't help but be impressed with Derek's self-control. He could barely detect a heightened heartbeat anymore.

"Derek, this is our friend, Lacey," Scott introduced them.

"Hi, Lacey. Derek Hale," he said, offering his hand.

"Lacey McCarter," she replied, shaking his outstretched hand. "Nice to meet you, Derek. I've heard good things."

"Really?" Derek inquired, looking amusedly at Scott and Stiles.

"Well, I've heard things," Lacey joked.

"That sounds about right," Derek said.

Lacey appraised Derek before carefully saying, "You're very controlled."

"I try to be," Derek replied.

"You think I'm doing it on purpose, don't you?"

Derek didn't respond at first. He just looked at her, sizing her up. "It would be pretty convenient if you could render all the werewolves in the area useless."

"It's actually the opposite of convenient."

Derek looked at her disbelievingly, narrowing his eyes. "I'm sure it's very difficult to have a flock of super-humans waiting on you hand and foot."

"You try getting anything done with a handful of testosterone-driven super wolves swarming you at all times."

They squared off for a moment.

"Derek, I don't mind if you keep a close eye on me," she told him honestly.

"Good," he grunted.

"I'm no threat to anybody here," she said. "So you're kind of wasting your time."

"I highly doubt that," he countered.

She shrugged. "Just thought I should put that out there."

He paused to collect himself. "Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Lacey. But I think I need to leave the room now."

"The scent isn't any fainter when you're frustrated with me?" she asked disappointedly.

"Apparently not," Derek said stiffly. "Somehow it's stronger."

"You strike me as the type of guy who gets turned on by a good argument," she commented.

"Maybe." He smiled despite himself.

She smiled back. She found a certain kind of humor in Derek. "It was nice to meet you, too, Derek. Can't wait for the day when you realize I'm not a scheming witch."

Derek nodded. And with that, he turned and headed for the operating room where Deaton waited.

Scott, Stiles, and Isaac were all rooted to the spot, looking uncomfortable, unsure of what they had just witnessed.

Derek poked his head back around the doorway. "Are you guys coming or not?"

Isaac and Scott both hopped to it, disappearing into the back room.

Stiles smiled delightedly at Lacey. "So that's Derek…" he said. "Don't mind him."

"I don't," Lacey admitted. "I kinda like him."

"Well, he probably doesn't like you very much," Stiles joked. "I don't think many people talk to him like that."

Lacey smiled.

"You're not going back there with us, I assume?" Stiles asked.

She shook her head. "Deaton needs me up here." She wanted him to know that if he needed her more, she'd be there in a heartbeat, but she stopped herself.

"Okay," he replied, smiling her favorite half smile.

There it was again, that overwhelming urge to kiss him. She sighed internally. "Good luck, though. Let me know if you need my help."

"I will," Stiles assured her. "I should get back there."

He turned and walked away from her, leaving her at the front desk with her guilt.


	13. Chapter 13

Lacey hung around the vet clinic to help Deaton close up after Scott, Stiles, Derek, and Isaac had left in a hurry. Apparently, they had discovered where the Alpha Pack was keeping Erica and Boyd.

As she mopped up the floor around the metal tub that Deaton had brought in for Isaac's ice bath, Deaton strode into the room.

"How was your first day of work?" he asked kindly.

"It was great," she told him. "Not as difficult as I imagined."

"I'm glad," he replied. A quiet moment passed between them. Deaton was the one to break it. "Lacey, I know you've only just started working here, but you should know I ask for a two week notice before my employees quit."

She didn't know what to say. Obviously he had heard her and Scott talking.

"I don't want you to think I was eavesdropping." He held his hands up in a show of surrender. "But the walls in here are thinner than you'd think."

"It's okay," she told him. "I don't mind that you overheard. It's your clinic, after all."

"Again, not that it's any of my business," Deaton began, "but where do you intend to go?"

"I have no idea," she admitted. "But it's not like I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Even though you'd like to," Deaton read her mind.

"What else am I supposed to do?" she beseeched, as if he had accused her.

"Think like a wolf," Deaton pressed. "I know you've avoided it for a decade, but you are, indeed, a wolf, Lacey."

"I know what you want me to say, Deaton," Lacey told him. "Fight or flight, right? I know how to fight, but I'm choosing to run away. It's what I've been doing my whole life."

"Because Jared believed it would keep you safe."

She nodded.

"Lacey, let me ask you something," Deaton said. "In all the foster homes, in all the different towns, cities, and states that you've lived in, have you ever been tempted to make friends?"

"Never," she admitted.

"Yet, you made friends here," he observed. "I believe there was some sort of instant connection between you and Stiles…but why didn't you run the other way when you found out Stiles' best friend is a werewolf?"

She really thought about it for a moment. "I guess it made me feel…at home." As she admitted it to Deaton, she admitted it to herself. "When my parents were alive, the supernatural was all I'd ever known. And after they died, I had to enter a world that I never really felt a part of. Meeting Scott made me feel like I finally fit in somewhere."

"Now you're thinking like a wolf," Deaton praised.

"What do you mean?"

"Pack mentality," Deaton explained. "You've found yourself a pack."

"But I don't want it," Lacey said, frustrated.

"Every wolf wants a pack, Lacey," Deaton told her. "Your parents––"

"My parents and their entire pack were killed," Lacey snapped. "And they were killed because of me. I'm a moving target. No matter where I go, no matter what I do, I'll always be a moving target because of what I am."

"Then stop moving," Deaton instructed. "Find safety and strength in your pack."

Lacey was angry with herself for the warm feeling she got when Deaton referred to them as her 'pack.'

"Lacey," Deaton called her attention back. "I know that this has been in the back of your mind because it's been in mine as well. I think you and I both speculate that Jared didn't end up in my veterinary clinic by mistake. Perhaps when the rival pack caught hold of him, he was already on his way here."

"But why here? Why Beacon Hills?" Lacey questioned.

Deaton only shrugged. "Some call it a Beacon for the supernatural. I, for one, think your emissary had other-worldly powers that I cannot even begin to fathom."

"He knew I would end up here."

"Precisely."

"Do you think he meant to find me a new emissary?" she joked lightly, smiling at Deaton.

Deaton couldn't help but return the smile. "Lacey, I'm in no position to tell you what to do, but I hope after what we've discussed tonight, you'll reconsider your plan."

"I'm scared, Deaton," she admitted quietly. "I don't want any of them getting hurt because of me."

"Believe me when I say that this pack isn't new to injury. But they also have the makings of the strongest pack I've ever seen. And this may be a bit forward of me, but I think you need them, Lacey. Almost as much as they need you."

She exhaled strongly. "If I stay, I'm not gonna go full wolf or anything," she told him firmly.

"Do Stiles, Allison, or Lydia have any supernatural powers?" Deaton asked.

"No," Lacey answered. "…But they can't be in the pack, anyway."

"Why not?" Deaton pressed.

"Because…they're not werewolves," Lacey tried. She scrutinized him. "You can't be in a werewolf's pack unless you're a werewolf."

"Lacey, I think you'll find that Scott and his friends have redefined the term pack," he told her. "If you decide to stay, your identity can remain hidden. If you so choose."

"That won't last," Lacey brooded. "Besides, it sounds like you want me to go full wolf."

Deaton shrugged noncommittally. "I think it would simplify things."

"Yeah, right––"

"Considering the fact that only a small percentage of people––both human and supernatural––know what a superlunary alpha is, I don't think anyone would know your identity. And it wouldn't cause anyone too much alarm to see a new werewolf in Beacon Hills."

"What about the color of my eyes?" Lacey questioned.

"What about it?" Deaton countered. "I think you're causing more suspicion by acting like you have a secret."

Lacey considered this. "My head hurts," she said. "This is a lot to think about."

"I know," Deaton agreed. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you with this all at once. I was hoping I would have more time to get to know you before sharing my opinions with you. However, after hearing your conversation with Scott, I believed I was running out of time."

"Well, you've bought yourself some more, that's for sure," Lacey told him. "It's going to take me a while to sort things out."

"Two weeks notice," Deaton reminded her.

She nodded. "Right. So I've got two whole weeks to figure my life out."

He chuckled. "Precisely. But at the present time, you just have to figure out how to man the alarm system in my veterinary clinic. It's time to close up."

A few hours later, Lacey sat on her bed, devouring her reading assignment for _Heart of Darkness_. It helped to get her mind off of things.

She was in full escape mode when her cell phone began to buzz, bringing her back to reality. She was surprised to see Stiles' name on the caller ID. It was late, and Lacey had assumed he would be busy helping Derek and Scott.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Lacey?"

"Yeah. What's up, Stiles?"

"Well, things went a little…horribly wrong with the whole rescuing Erica and Boyd thing," he admitted.

She could hear the worry in his voice. "What do you mean horribly wrong?" she asked.

"Erica's dead," Stiles began, "and now Boyd and Cora are running rampant in Beacon Hills on a full moon after not feeling the moonlight in four months."

"Jesus," Lacey breathed. "Who's Cora?"

"Derek's long-lost sister, apparently," Stiles informed her. "Scott, Derek, and Isaac went to track them down."

"Did you find Heather?" Lacey was afraid to ask.

"No," Stiles replied. "I mean, not yet…"

"You'll find her," Lacey said encouragingly.

"I hope so," Stiles worried.

"Is there something else?" Lacey asked, sensing there was.

"Yeah, Lydia and I just found a body at one of the local pools," Stiles replied quietly.

"What were you doing at the pool?" Lacey wondered.

"It's kind of a weird story. I can explain better in person."

Lacey suddenly noticed an odd echoing quality to their phone call. It was like she was hearing him on the phone and in person.

"Stiles, where are you right now?" she inquired, already knowing the answer.

"In your driveway," he admitted. "Can you hear me from in there?"

"Loud and clear." She couldn't help but let out a soft laugh. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Aren't you gonna come downstairs and talk to me in person?" he questioned.

"No," she told him.

"Why not?"

"One, because I sense that this is one of your 'protect Lacey' schemes, and two, because I'm in my PJs."

"Scheme is such a skeezy word," Stiles said, pretending to be offended. "And, I know you don't remember it, but I've seen you in your PJs… Last night…"

A confused, silent moment passed as both of them took ample time to feel awkward about what Stiles had just said.

"Stiles, what are you doing in my driveway?" Lacey demanded, amused.

"Okay, hear me out," he begged, knowing her too well. "One of the first things I thought of when Scott told me there was a lunar-crazed male werewolf running around town… was you."

"Should I be offended?"

"No," Stiles guffawed. "I just thought about what would happen if he caught your scent."

"It would slightly problematic," Lacey admitted. "But you do know that I can defend myself, right?"

"Yeah, but––"

"And that you're actually putting yourself in danger by being anywhere near me?" She thought she had him.

"Well, if you don't come with me now, I guess I'll just have to wait in your driveway like a sitting duck until Boyd comes and rips me limb from limb."

"Give me five minutes," she said, rolling her eyes.

"I'll be here," he replied. "By the way, I don't appreciate the eye roll."

"How did you––?"

She only heard laughter on the other end.

Two could play at that game. "Wipe that smug smile off your face and hang up the phone so I can get changed."

Lacey threw on jeans and a sweatshirt and hurried downstairs. She locked the door behind her and jogged out to the jeep. She opened the door with a flourish.

"That was quick," Stiles commented.

"Well, you made it sound like Boyd was down the block," she replied, sliding into the passenger seat.

As soon as she was seated, Stiles began backing out of the driveway.

"Where are we going?" she inquired, understanding a sense of urgency. "Is it Lydia?"

Stiles shook his head. "No. Lydia's safe at home. I just got a text from Scott's mom…she wants me to come to the hospital."

"Is everything okay?" Lacey asked.

"Yeah," Stiles said distractedly. "At least I think so. All she said was that she wanted me to look at the dude's body in the morgue."

"Casual," she commented. "She would have told you if something was wrong, right?"

"Yeah, she would have…" Stiles said without much conviction.  
Lacey realized she was stressing him out more than she was helping. She decided a subject change was in order. "Did you do your reading for English tomorrow?"

Stiles gave her a goofy look. "You're asking me about English?"

"Not just English, _Heart of Darkness_. It's actually a really good book," she told him.

Stiles just shook his head in disbelief.

"Just because you're out here fighting crime doesn't mean you can slack in school," she insisted jokingly.

"Can I get a synopsis?" he asked her.

Lacey spent the entire rest of the way to the hospital talking Stiles ear off about the first four chapters of _Heart of Darkness._

When they arrived at the hospital, Stiles whisked through the parking lot to the visitor section and snaked easily into a spot. They were walking through the sliding double doors in no time. Stiles stopped at the nurse's station and requested Melissa McCall.

"Is it okay that I'm here?" Lacey questioned.

"Yeah, totally," Stiles answered coolly.

"I don't even know Scott's mom," she explained. "She probably expected you to come alone."

"She probably did," Stiles admitted. "But I'll just tell her the truth. I'll just tell her you were too afraid to be home alone on a night like this and you practically begged me to––"

Lacey flicked him in the ear.

"Did you just flick me?" Stiles asked, behooved. He held his ear.

"Stings, doesn't it?" she taunted, a satisfied grin on her face.

"I just can't believe you flicked me. I haven't been flicked since, like, third grade."

"You can't deny that it's effective," Lacey said.

"Yeah, well––"

"Stiles!"

Stiles and Lacey whipped around to see Melissa approaching.

"Hey, Melissa," Stiles greeted her.

"Hello," Melissa said to Lacey as she stopped in front of them. "I don't think we've met…"

"Oh, Melissa, this is our friend, Lacey, from school. Lacey, this is Scott's mom, Melissa," Stiles introduced them.

"Are you a new friend from school?" Melissa questioned. "I don't think I've ever heard your name before."

"Yeah." Lacey nodded vigorously. "I just moved from Colorado."

"Well, welcome to the craziness," Melissa said, gesturing to the bustling hospital. She smiled kindly at her.

"Thanks," Lacey replied. "It's really nice to meet you."

"You too," Melissa returned. She looked apologetically at Lacey. "Unfortunately, I have to steal Stiles away for a little while. Just, uh… I just need to ask him…uh…"

"It's okay, Melissa," Stiles assured her. "She knows."

Melissa looked at him questioningly. "Everything?"

"The important stuff," Stiles told her.

She turned to Lacey in disbelief. "And you believe it?"

Lacey cracked a smile. "I'm not exactly new to the supernatural," she admitted.

Melissa looked overwhelmed.

"But we can talk about that later," Lacey rushed to say. "I'll just wait here for you guys."

"Okay, great," Melissa replied. "Let's go, Stiles."

"Are you sure you're cool with staying here?" Stiles asked Lacey concernedly.

"You ask like I have a choice," Lacey sassed. "But, yes. I'll be right here when you get back."

Stiles' mouth turned up at the corners.

"Just go," Lacey urged, waving him on.

"Okay, okay, I'm going, I'm going." Stiles hurried after Melissa, who had already started down the hall.

Melissa snuck Stiles into the morgue and closed the door soundly behind them.

"Lacey seems like a nice girl," she said offhand.

"Yeah, she is," Stiles agreed. "I'm surprised Scott hasn't said––"

"Oh, please, Stiles." Melissa gave him a knowing look that only a mother could give. "It wasn't like I was about to open my big mouth and tell her the only thing Scott has told me about her is how much you like her."

Stiles turned bright red. "Melissa…," he said exasperatedly.

She smiled delightedly, putting her hands in the air. "I'm not here to embarrass you, Stiles."

"Oh, don't worry, I got that part more than covered," Stiles assured her.

"Well, good," she said. "Because if she likes you, she better know the real Stiles."

Stiles groaned.

"Okay, point taken," Melissa responded.

"It's just weird to talk about girls with your best friend's mom," Stiles said uncomfortably.

"And we're not here to talk about girls, anyway," Melissa told him, becoming more serious. "Take a look at this." She pulled open one of the drawers.

Lacey waited patiently in a plastic chair across from the nurse's station. She was almost nodding off when she heard her name.

"Lacey?"

It was Celeste.

"Oh, hey, Celeste," she answered, waking herself up. She didn't even think of the possibility of crossing paths with her foster sister. She was working, after all.

"What in God's name are you doing here?" Celeste asked.

"I'm just waiting for a friend," Lacey told her.

"At this hour? Is everything all right?"

"Oh, yeah. Everything's fine. He's just visiting Melissa."

"McCall?" Celeste inquired.

Lacey nodded.

"Are you friends with her son, Scott?"

Lacey nodded again. "Yeah, but that's not who I'm waiting for."

"Why are you up so late?" Celeste pressed. "Do you need a curfew or something?"

Lacey chuckled. "No, Celeste, it's all right. This is just a one-time thing."

"Okay…" Celeste didn't seem comforted. "You're not doing drugs, are you?"

Lacey's eyes widened. "No, definitely not. I promise."

"All right…well, as long as you're safe…"

"I am," Lacey assured her. "How's the shift going?"

"Long," Celeste answered. "I'm actually on my break right now. I'm gonna see how much food court coffee I can suck down in 15 minutes."

"Don't let me keep you, then," Lacey told her.

"I'll see you at home?" Celeste asked.

Lacey nodded. "I'll see ya there. Now go get some coffee."

As soon as Celeste had walked away, Stiles came around the corner with Melissa in tow. Lacey instantly knew something was wrong. She could smell the saline of tears. Internally, she panicked; she had never been good at the whole comforting thing.

She stood up to meet them as they got closer. Melissa had a gentle hand on Stiles' shoulder. He looked devastated.

She couldn't bring herself to say anything. She just stood there like an idiot, looking from Stiles to Melissa and back again.

"I hate to do this," Melissa broke the silence, "but I have to get back to work." She grabbed Stiles by both shoulders and turned him to face her. "Are you sure you're okay, Stiles?"

He nodded solemnly.

"I'm so sorry. I had no idea…"

"It's okay," he assured her. "There's no easy way."

Lacey, bit her lip, knowing the worst thing to do is to ask what's wrong.

Stiles raised his head slowly until his eyes rested on hers. "One of the bodies we looked at was Heather's," he explained sadly.

"Stiles…"

"Can we just get outta here?" he asked her. "I really need some air."

Melissa released him, still looking extremely worried.

He pushed past Lacey, on a mission for the exit.

Lacey and Melissa exchanged a look.

"Don't worry, he's in good hands," Lacey told her confidently.

"I don't doubt that," Melissa said, smiling tightly. "I just hate seeing him like that."

"Me too," Lacey admitted.

"Well, you'd better catch up," Melissa told her. "And I have to see a patient on the third floor."

Lacey nodded. "Nice to meet you, Melissa." She waved as she headed after Stiles.

"I have a feeling this won't be the last time," Melissa said over her shoulder.

Lacey jogged after Stiles, catching him just as he walked through the automatic doors. The night air washed over her.

Lacey kept her distance, making sure to give him space.

Stiles stopped once they reached the parking lot and took a few deep breaths, tears eventually streaming down his face. He let out one half-sob before bringing his sleeve across his face to dry it.

"I'm sorry," he said, not looking at her.

"Stiles, don't you dare apologize," Lacey replied.

He smiled slightly at this and shook his head, sniffling.

She took a tentative step toward him. "Do you…wanna talk about it? Do you need anything?"

"A hug might be nice," he admitted, sort of laughing at her.

"Oh. Right. Yeah." She spluttered. "Sorry, I'm really horrible at human things like this."

She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him.

"You're not so bad," he joked, his voice muffled by her hair.

She held onto him for what seemed like an eternity, not wanting to let go when they eventually did. As they were pulling away, they both felt Stiles' phone vibrate in his front pocket.

He pulled it out and read his new text message. "It's Scott. He says they're luring Boyd and Cora to the school."

"So they're not caught yet?"

Stiles shook his head.

"So this whole me being under your protection thing…"

"You can go home if you want, Lace. I'm not holding you captive or anything."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. I was promised your protection until Boyd is caught. Now you're trying to get rid of me? I was just gonna ask if we could order pizza or something. I'm starving."

Stiles laughed. "At 3:30am?"

"Nothing makes me hungrier for pizza than a full moon," Lacey told him.

"At least it's pizza, not person."

"Touché."


End file.
